


Cross My Heart

by smolandgrumpy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Bodyguard Dean Winchester, Chuck Shurley Being an Asshole, Dirty Talk, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Slow Burn, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, War Veteran Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24267568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolandgrumpy/pseuds/smolandgrumpy
Summary: After opening up a letter, the life as she knows it, changes forever. Her husband hires Dean Winchester to protect her but is Dean really who he said he was? And is her husband really worried about her safety?
Relationships: Chuck Shurley/Reader, Chuck Shurley/You, Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 89
Kudos: 137





	1. CH.01

It’s like any other day in her boring life, really. 

Chuck, her husband, has already left to do whatever he’s doing. She doubts that it’s work but what does she know, really. 

She was still sleeping when he left. He’s mostly up before the break of dawn, something with time zones and new deals. But she guesses it’s also because he doesn’t really want to see her and he’d rather go out early to avoid the awkward mornings together.

Y/N gets out of bed and hops into the shower. Afterwards, she dresses to impress, because that’s what people expect of her. They expect of her to always look presentable and the paparazzi are everywhere. 

She walks along the landing, her heels clicking on the marble flooring as she descends the stairs. 

While she passes the living room, she sees a stack of mail on the sideboard by the door. Chuck must have taken in the mail and put it there before he left. She stops to look through the stack. There’s the usual letters, bills and mortgages they need to pay, which is not really her concern since Chuck takes care of their finances. 

She used to do it, though. But about three years back, Chuck told her that she shouldn’t hurt her pretty head by worrying about bills and he took over. He was adamant about it and there’s nothing she could have said to make him change his mind. Not that she hasn’t tried. She graduated summa cum laude from Stanford and now she’s just a really bored housewife.

Chuck didn’t even finish College. Dropped out and worked his way up at a record label, and when he had had enough, he split from them and opened his own, not without taking all the talents with him which ended up in a big lawsuit and he had to settle the huge bill. 

Y/N met Chuck in College, they kept contact after he dropped out and after her graduation, they got married in Vegas. Not really a thing fairy tales are made of, she knows. Chuck was great at first and let her be part of his imperium. That was until he thought that his wife shouldn’t be working so hard. She basically got degraded from being a strong woman who still had her future ahead of her, to becoming someone's arm candy. Became something he can parade around. 

Their relationship changed after maybe the first two years. She’s been with him for so long, she can’t even remember when it all really started. His record label took off, everybody was talking about Apocalypse Records, he was praised, had so many articles in magazines about how he’s a self-made millionaire. Little do they know that she was the one who emptied her trust fund in order to support him at the beginning of his career. 

Y/N’s still skimming through their mail until an envelope catches her attention. There’s her name scribbled on it, no address, no stamps. She weighs the envelope with her hand, feels something hard and heavy, heavier than sheets of paper at least. She hooks the nail of her pinky finger into the latch and opens it, the content flutters to the ground. 

Pictures, she realizes, and then she squats and picks them up. Her heart stops.

They are all pictures of her. A picture of her while she’s out shopping, a picture while she’s having lunch on her own. Pictures of her sleeping in her bed in her own home. 

_Oh my god._

Her hand’s are shaking as she reads the letter. 

_MRS. SHURLEY,_

_THE SAME LETTER WITH THE SAME CONTENT HAS BEEN SENT TO YOUR HUSBANDS OFFICE AS WELL._

_WHAT DO WE WANT YOU MAY ASK?_

_THE ANSWER IS: WE WANT YOU._

_PS. IT’S NOT REALLY OUR MODUS OPERANDI TO INFORM OUR VICTIMS BEFOREHAND BUT WE LIKE TO PLAY WITH YOU, SO._

_PPS. HAVE A GOOD DAY._

Y/N feels nauseous but she manages to pull herself together enough to grab her keys by the door and walks out to get into her car. 

On her way over to Chuck’s company, she tries to call him but it goes right into his voicemail. 

She arrives and nods at the security guy before taking the elevator up to the top floor. Chuck’s secretary stops her as soon as Y/N steps out, but she wouldn’t let herself be stopped so she walked right into see something she probably shouldn’t.

Chuck’s bend over his desk, his face buried in the cunt of his assistant. 

She slams the door close loudly, for the fucking dramatic effect, which makes Chuck jump and he looks at her, startled, the juice of his assistant still drips down his chin. The assistant screams and scrambles from the table, covers herself up with both her hands.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I being too loud?” Y/N says, storms in and slams the letter onto Chuck’s desk. It’s soaked in the assistant's wetness. Katy, Kathy, Karen? She can’t remember. 

“What the fuck!” Chuck shouts out.

“Karen? Is it?” She turns to his assistant.

“No, it’s Kacy.” 

“Awe silly me,” Y/N grins, “I knew it was _something with a K_.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Chuck growls and _something with a K_ is getting dressed.

“Read it.” Y/N just says, ignoring the assistant. She wonders if _something with a K_ knows that she’s not the only one. Y/N for her part stopped having sex with Chuck already three years after their marriage, when she found out that he’s been fucking all the other whores he meets. They’ve mostly been ignoring each other since, but they have to keep up the facade, mainly because Chuck can’t afford to lose out on divorcing her. 

_Something with a K_ slips out of the door and Chuck sits down on his desk, the swelling in his pants disappeared. Not that there was much to see in the first place.

“Is this a fucking prank? Why do they want me?” She asks Chuck and he’s still frowning while reading it. 

“I don’t know? Maybe they want to kidnap you? Get money from me?”

She laughs. Loud and sharp. 

“If they are watching me, they’d know that you don’t fucking care about me!”

“That’s not true, Y/N.”

“Oh, please! When was the last time you were here for my birthday? When was the last time we shared a meal together and I’m not talking about the outings we have to boost your fucking company!”

“I might not love you anymore but I still do care about you.” Chuck says, his voice is calm and she wonders if it’s sincere. She can never read him. Well, at least he’s being honest when he says that he doesn’t love her anymore, she has to give him that. Strangely, it doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would.

“Go wait in the record studio. You’re safe there. I’ll get my team together, see what we can do. Does the police know?”

“I haven’t contacted them.” 

“I’ll do it. Go.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


She’s pushing around some buttons as she sits in the chair in the record studio, waiting for Chuck to come get her. Maybe she shouldn’t play with them because Chuck will probably get mad when all the buttons are at the wrong places.

Y/N smirks at the thought that Chuck would be pissed, and begins to start pushing at more buttons and messing the whole studio up. For fucking good measure.

Time passes and she looks at her watch. She’s been in here for almost two hours already. Lunch time came and passed. Maybe Chuck forgot about her? She wouldn’t put it past him. 

The door opens with a bang and she has to laugh. Chuck’s always so fucking dramatic. He walks in and closes the door behind him while she gets up from her chair.

“Okay, the police came and confiscated the letter and pictures. They did really send another copy to my office.”

“Crap. Do I need to talk to them?”

“Not yet,” Chuck sighs, “Here’s how it goes. I hired a bodyguard for you, he’ll protect you.”

“This is ridiculous!” Her lips twitch at the anger she feels, “I don’t need a bodyguard! Like really Chuck, who’s going to come after me? This is a joke. I don’t get it, I mean I know that you are struggling at the moment with signing on new talents and keeping old ones, so I doubt that someone can really dig for gold right now!”

She proceeds to walk away and out of here, but Chuck pulls her back by her arm, slams her against the wall and claws his hands around her throat. “If you tell anyone that I’m in a financial crisis, I swear!”

Y/N opens her mouth to protest but angry Chuck is not her favorite Chuck so all she can push past her lips is, “Okay,” 

Chuck rarely gets physical with her, so it’s a complete surprise and she’s shocked at the pain he inflicts her.

“Good. Let’s play nice, shall we?” Chuck whispers into her ear and then he lets go of her. 

Her hands immediately fly to her throat, and she has to cough. 

Chuck waits for her to regain her composure before he opens the door again to call someone in, “Mr. Winchester?”

“Yes, sir.” He hears a voice but doesn’t recognize it. She’s never heard it before but she likes how deep and low it is. Feels that the two words alone soothes her aching soul.

Chucks walks back further into the room, and someone else is joining them too. She almost gasps out loud when she sees Mr. Winchester. He’s tall and broad, wears a black suit. He has a light scruff, the tie is neat and sits right at the center, and when he smiles and nods at her, she can see the crinkles around his eyes. His face is sprayed with little freckles. Mr. Winchester’s eyes are green.

“Honey, this is Mr. Winchester. He’s an ex-marine and he’s your bodyguard.”

Mr. Winchester’s green eyes stay on her before his gaze travels to her throat. He frowns then but he doesn’t say anything.

“Chuck, I don’t need a bodyguard,” She tries to reason with her husband.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N. We’ve been through this. You will do what I say and you’ll let Mr. Winchester do his job.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes at Chuck before she purses her lips into a thin line, “Fine!”

  
  


*

  
  


“You okay, Mrs. Shurley?” Mr. Winchester asks her when she settles next to him. Apparently, she’s not even allowed to drive her own car anymore, “Did he hurt you?”

So, he did notice it.

She shakes her head, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

Mr. Winchester frowns, the crease between his eyebrows deepens but he doesn’t press any further, just sends her a courtesy nod.

There’s silence between them and Mr. Winchester starts the engine to which she then asks him if he could take her to the next coffee shop.

He answers short, “Sure.”

And with that, Mr. Winchester drives off.

She watches him while he drives, tries to be subtle about it. 

“What’s your name?” After a while she asks him bluntly, and she doesn’t know if he’s even allowed to tell her but the silence in the car is killing her.

“Dean.”

“Dean? Can I call you Dean?”

He chuckles, “Of course, Mrs. Shurley.”

His answers are short, quick. He doesn’t look at her once. 

“You can call me Y/N.”

Dean doesn’t answer. 

She offered to buy Dean a coffee and something to eat too but he said that he wasn’t hungry or thirsty, so she took her coffee to go. It’s best if they get it over with, she thinks. He can drop her off and go about his day. And she can go into sulking. Maybe she’ll call her friend, Meg, and tell her the newest episode of dickhead Chuck.

Back home, she thought that Dean would leave her be but no, he gets out of the car and is right behind her when she unlocks the front door. 

“Don’t you have anywhere you should be? Maybe another bodyguard job?” She asks him curiously. 

Dean shrugs, “You’re my only priority.”

Wow, it has been too long since she’s someone’s priority. And she doesn’t know what it is but it makes her blush and her heart thumbs ridiculously fast in her chest.

Just when she opens the door to step in, she lets out a yell. 

Dean immediately draws his gun, grips her by the arm and pulls her back, acting like a human shield for her. “What?” He hisses while he tilts his head back to ask.

She, on the other hand, freezes when she sees Dean’s gun, “You have a gun?”

He looks at her with one raised eyebrow, “How else should I be able to protect you, Mrs. Shurley. Now tell me, what is it?”

“Look for yourself,” She whispers. 

She peeks from behind him, sees the overturned furniture in her home, sees the feathers laying around which spilled out from the pillows, sees that the walls and whole floor have been drenched in some kind of red paint that looks awfully like blood. Maybe it is blood because there’s this metallic smell in the air. 

_Oh my god_. If it’s really blood, who's blood is it?

“Fuck,” Dean mutters under his breath and she guesses that he too, didn’t think when he took over the job, that it’ll be this intense. 

“Where’s your room?” Dean asks, as they step inside. Their shoes are sticky with blood and they have to be careful not to slip and fall. 

“Upstairs.”

“Okay, follow me.” Dean stretches out a hand for her to take and she places her small ones in his. 

Dean’s hand is big.

Together they go up the stairs and to her surprise, her bedroom still looks the same as when she left it. They just made a mess out of the first floor. She thinks it’s shady as fuck and she guesses that Dean feels the same.

He checks the perimeter and calls the police when he comes back empty handed while she still tries to get the sticky thing off her shoes. 

It isn’t long before some crime scene investigators arrive to take pictures of her house. They also taped everything and honestly, it scares her. She’s terrified that someone was able to come in and make a mess in her own house. 

Unfortunately, it is also not long before the tabloids got wind about it, and began to show up one by one.

After a while, Dean and her had been informed that the blood is indeed real. But it’s animal blood and not human, so at least there’s that. She shudders when she thinks about it. 

Who in the fucking right mind would play such a sick prank?

She and Dean are sitting on the stairs as they watch the police work on the first floor. Dean’s on the phone with Chuck for an awfully long time, and when she gets up to go to her bedroom, Dean follows her absentmindedly. That dude sticks to her like glue. She can’t even be alone in her damn house. 

“Yes, sir.” Dean says into the phone and then he hands his phone to her, “Your husband.”

“Chuck,” Her voice is all shades of annoyed. Maybe not particularly because of Chuck. More because her life has become a fucking mess.

“Yeah, pack your things, you’re going away for a while.”

“What?” Y/N nearly screams into the phone. 

“Our home is obviously not safe and I doubt that any other buildings in the city are safe right now. If it’s not the kidnapper or killer, it’s the tabloids.”

She sighs, feels helpless. This is not how she thought her life would become. “Where do I go?”

“Mr. Winchester will take you to a safe house.” 

She eyes Dean when Chucks talks and Dean just stares at her. His gaze is intense, and there’s something in his eyes too. Worry, probably, she doesn’t know because he’s so hard to read.

“I’m safe in my own house.” She replies, knows herself that it’s totally a stupid thing to say.

“Are you?” Chuck has an amused tone in his voice. She wonders how much he really cares.

She sighs, “For how long?” 

“For as long as it takes for the police to catch those bastards.” Chuck’s voice changes and he sounds as annoyed as her. He was always a good actor, she has to give him that.

“Fine.” 

“I’ll be in touch.”

She hangs up without saying goodbye and hands the phone back to Dean. He pockets it back and then he stands up a little straighter. “Y/N, please pack light, we don’t have much space on the motorcycle. I’ll be back here in an hour. Be ready by then.”

There’s something fluttering in her stomach when she hears him say her name. It sounds good out of his mouth and she can’t suppress the smile. 

“I thought you were not to let me out of your sight?” She’s merely teasing him.

“I need to go pack for myself either,” Dean explains and ignores her smile, “A policeman will stand guard until I’m back.” 

“Okay,”

With a courtesy nod, Dean leaves.

  
  



	2. CH.02

Dean left while the police are still working in her house and Y/N paces around in her bedroom. Her mind races. This is a sick joke isn’t it? She expects Chuck to jump out if her closet when she opens it, making jazz hands and laughs while he tells her that she’s been fucking pranked.

But nothing happens. Her closet stays silent and dark until she switches on the light.

She looks through her clothes, lets her fingers trail along the fabric on their hangers.

Pack light.

_ Pack light? _

What the fuck does that even mean?

She doesn’t even know where they’re going. Doesn’t even know the weather. Doesn’t even know how long she’ll be away and for how many days she needs to pack for.

This is fucking ridiculous. How can she pack light when she might need to have something to wear for a month? She feels nauseous all of a sudden. What if it’ll be longer than a month? Or worse? What if she doesn’t get to come back? What if she’ll stay on the run? She knows it’s a ridiculous thought but her mind’s going crazy.

Y/N finds a backpack somewhere buried deep in the corner of her walk-in closet and takes it out, dusts it up and then she begins to pack. She mindlessly throws in underwear and socks, shirts and blouses, shorts and skirts, one hoodie and one cardigan. She has to decide on only one heeled shoe and that is actually a crime against fucking humanity. She doesn’t even bother with her jewelry or make up, though, because there’s just no space left. 

It’s starting to get dark outside and she hears the doorbell. Dean returns earlier than he said he would.

Zipping up the backpack, she swings it around and secures it behind her back before walking down and out the door. The policeman who stood guard gives her a courtesy nod. 

Dean’s standing in the doorway, and she squints her eyes a little because she first thought it was someone else. Gone is Dean’s suit, which is really a shame, but instead he wears casual grey jeans and a black shirt with a black leather jacket. 

“Hey, we’re twinsies!” She declares because she’s wearing her black leather jacket too, she thought she’d dress the part since Dean said that they’re going to travel on a freaking motorcycle.

She hears him chuckle. It’s the first time that he lets himself go like this and she thinks that he finally resembles a human being when he shows emotions. She likes the sound of it, and would like to hear it more often.

“Good that we’re only twinsies with the jacket. I don’t think that dress would look good on me.” He smirks when he eyes her up, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” She says and Dean grabs at the backpack, lets her slip out of it and carries it to the motorcycle. “Is that yours?”

“Yeah,” He says and smiles. She can see that he’s proud. Dean secures the backpack on the back of the motorcycle. “It works better if we have to shake off people who might be following us.”

“Okay,” Her heart is beating fast. She’s never been on a motorcycle before. 

Dean notices her timidity and walks over to where she’s standing with her arms wrapped around herself. He places his fingers underneath her chin, making her look up to him. “You don’t have to be scared, okay? Nothing is going to happen on that motorcycle. I know what I’m doing and I wouldn't put you in danger.”

She nods her head, “Okay.”

“You’ve never been on one before?” He asks when he hands her the helmet. 

“No?” 

He laughs, “Oh, you’re going to love it.” 

She puts the helmet over her head and Dean does the same. He steadies his motorcycle and straddles it before waiting for her to hop on.

“What you have to do is to move closer to me,” Dean grabs her by the back of her knees and pulls her closer to him. So close that they’re chest to back. He leaves a wake of goosebumps on her skin that’s been touched by him. “Good, now put your arms around my waist and hold on tight, got it?” 

She nods.

“Y/N, I need you to tell me that you understand.”

“Yes.”

“There you go,” Dean chuckles. “Okay, I can’t see what you need but if you want me to stop anywhere, just tap on my body, you understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

“That’s a good girl,” Dean laughs. 

But then his laughter dies down. She’s still blushing at the good girl comment, loves how it sounds out of his mouth, it hits the right button, can’t lie about that. Dean’s body goes tense. He probably realized that he crossed a line he shouldn’t be crossing in the first place. 

“‘M sorry. That was out of line.” He apologizes. 

“Don’t worry about it.” She answers because it’s true. She likes it. Dean has nothing to worry about. If possible, she would like to hear it more. Which really is not a good thing to be wanting, is it?

Dean starts the engine without another word to her and she hopes that he’s not completely disappointed in himself because she likes the playful Dean. The Dean who can make jokes and smile and laugh. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


After about six hours, they arrive at their destination. 

They had to stop for gas six times, and every time she would ask him where he’s taking her but every time she got shot down. 

Dean’s really good at what he does, apparently. And that includes keeping things to himself, as well as feelings, because the bodyguard Dean is back. He’d only answer in riddles and they’re mostly one syllable. There’s no playfulness in his voice anymore, no smirk that dances along at the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s also because after the fourth stop, he realizes that she still has her phone with her and technically everyone can track a phone so he took it from her and unceremoniously breaks it in half and throws it away. 

Y/N has stopped talking to him after that stunt either.

It’s already night and she can’t lie, it’s fucking creepy out here in the woods. There are trees everywhere and right in the middle is this small cabin.

“I grew up here.” Dean just says. As if he knows what she’s been thinking. He takes the backpacks from the bike, walks them to the front door. 

She has to hurry to keep up, “You grew up in this cabin?” 

Dean has to chuckle at that. 

Finally she hears the deep rolling sound of his voice.

“No, I grew up in the town about ten miles from here. This is my uncle's cabin. He has several in the woods. Little safe houses that he set up.” Dean steps in and turns on the light and she closes the door behind her.

“For people like me?” 

“Not exclusively. For other people as well, people who need to get away from abusive partners, people who need to hide from abusive parents, I don’t really know. All sorts of people. The world is a scary place.”

Dean drops the bags and walks over to switch on more lights. 

The decor of the cabin is sparse. There’s a couch, a TV. A table for two and she can see the kitchen from here. There are two other rooms and she guesses that one is a bathroom while the other one must be a bedroom. 

It’s a stark contrast to the house she used to live in. But nonetheless it feels cozy? She doesn’t know what it is but there’s something about it that makes her feel comfortable and safe. Maybe it’s the presence of Dean.

“You hungry?” Dean asks as he carries a bag towards the kitchen and begins to put the groceries he brought with him into pantries. 

“No, thanks.” 

It’s already late and she’s exhausted. Can’t lie, her ass is also sore from the bike ride and to be sitting down is the last thing on her mind.

“There’s the bathroom, and you’re sleeping in the bedroom.” He points at the two doors.

She takes a peek into each of the rooms and sees that there’s only one bed in the bedroom.

“And where are you sleeping?” She eyes the couch, it does in fact not look comfortable to sleep on at all.

Dean nods. 

“We can trade. I take the couch and you take the bed.” She offers him, because the couch looks too small for him to sleep on. She on the other hand would fit in perfectly. 

She earns a chuckle from Dean.

“Y/N, that’s okay. I slept worse. My job is to keep you safe. Your husband would kill me if he knew that you’d be sleeping on the couch.”

“I don’t think Chuck really cares where I’m sleeping.”

Dean doesn’t say anything, he frowns and then he turns around to finish the tasks he set out for himself.

She goes into the bedroom. It’s quite spacious and she’s sure that Dean would fit into the bed too if she’d make room for him. They could sleep in the same bed but she doesn’t think that Dean wants that. She doesn’t know if she really wants that either. 

After she takes a shower, she goes in to change into her pj and climbs to bed. Dean slips into the shower after her, comes out with damp hair and a simple t-shirt and pj pants. She sees it because the door to the bedroom is wide open. 

“You’re going to stay in bed?” He asks her while he makes himself comfortable on the couch. 

She pulls the blanket up to her chin, “Yeah, I’m exhausted. And my ass hurts.”

He chuckles from the other room and after a while he says, “I hope it’s okay for you that we leave the bedroom door open. I need to always be able to see and reach you at all times.”

“Okay,”

It’s silent until Dean speaks up again, “I’m sorry about your phone,” 

“You should be,”

“If you want, you can use mine. But I have to listen in to every conversation and read every text you send out. It’s for your own safety.”

She thinks about it. Thinks who she would even reach out to. Chuck knows where she is, and he has Dean’s number. Maybe Meg? She’s her friend after all and she hasn’t updated Meg yet about any of this. Maybe she’ll take Dean up on his offer. She doesn’t talk about it now though, it’s late and Meg is probably sleeping already anyway. So instead of saying anything about the phone, she just wishes him good night, “Good night, Dean.”

“Night, Y/N.”

  
  


*

  
  


She tosses and turns in her bed and it’s impossible to fall asleep. She keeps hearing things outside and it frightens her. 

“Dean?” She calls out in a whisper. Doesn’t really want to wake him up should he already be sleeping.

She gets out of bed when she doesn’t get an answer, and wanders out to get a glass of water. Maybe that’ll calm her down. 

Walking out into the living room, she can’t help but stop at the couch. Dean’s sleeping, his lips are slightly parted. There’s a frown on his face even when he’s sleeping. She brushes against the couch in passing and that’s when Dean jumps up and she’s looking into a barrel of a gun. 

Y/N’s so shocked, she doesn’t get a word out.

“Jesus, don’t sneak around like that ever again!” Dean growls and lowers his gun, puts it back under his pillow. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“Fuck, I could have hurt you!” Dean rubs a hand over his face, she can hear his palm rubbing against his scruff. “Why are you up anyway?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d go get a glass of water.” She blushes as she walks to the kitchen, pours herself a glass of water and walks out again.

Dean’s sitting upright now while he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. When he hears her approaching, he makes room on the couch. “You wanna watch TV? Maybe it helps to fall asleep. It’s the sound of the trees and animals outside, isn’t it?”

There’s a crease between her eyebrows, “How do you know?”

“Been there. When I was a kid I came out here with Bobby, that’s my uncle, a lot. He’d take me hunting. I could never sleep at night. Now I can just sleep anywhere.”

“Ah,” She settles next to him as he turns on the TV for her. They settle on some cartoons. After a while she leans her head against him and Dean’s body goes rigid. He doesn’t say anything, though, just pulls his blanket up and covers her with it. Her eyes are already almost closing when she mumbles, “Thanks.”

He doesn’t say anything, only nods as he sits beside her until she falls asleep.

  
  



	3. CH.03

There’s noises coming from outside, she hears the sound of water, hears the sound of oil sizzling in a pan. Y/N smells things too, a smell she makes out as coffee and bacon. Her mouth starts to water and her stomach’s growling.

She opens her eyes to look around, expects to be in the living room but she’s laying flat. Looking around, she sees that she’s in bed. Dean must have carried her back when she fell asleep.

Sitting up, she stretches and yawns, and of course Dean has to walk in on her right in that moment. She rubs at her eyes and looks at him, sees that the corner of his lips tilts up into a smile but then he purses his lips into a thin line, and the frown makes a return on his face. 

He’s dressed in casual gear, and she thinks he doesn’t bother with the suits anymore since they have to basically go incognito which is a shame really, because he looks good in suits. Like some kind of a walking Armani ad. 

“You’re up,” He says, leans his body against the door frame and crosses his arms.

“At what cost, though,” She groans, she is absolutely no morning person. She stretches some more, making her pj top riding up her stomach.

Dean doesn’t say anything for a long time and when she looks at him, she catches him staring. 

She smirks and decides to tease him. She trails her fingers down her top, catches at the seam and pulls it up, just a little.

Dean’s still staring but then he lowers his face, stares at the ground instead and murmurs, “Breakfast is ready, take your time.” 

He turns around and leaves right after, but she caught the red of the tip of his ears. It’s so easy to rile him up. She needs to do it more. 

Y/N gets dressed and walks out into the living room where Dean’s already sitting at the table. She joins him and he pushes a plate in front of her and a mug of coffee, “Any news?” She asks, wondering if Chuck informed him about any kind of progress.

“No, Mr. Shurley didn’t get in touch yet.”

“But you told him that we’re here?”

“Yes.”

Oh, bodyguard Dean is back. 

“Okay,” She says and eats her breakfast in silence.

She offers to clean the dishes afterwards, and Dean excuses himself to go out. Said he needs to check on his car which is parked behind the cabin. She doesn’t really know if he tells the truth because it was too dark to make out anything when they arrived last night, but before she could ask, Dean’s already out of the door. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Y/N’s bored out of her mind so she zaps through the TV channels, and her eyes widened at the entertainment news. 

They talk about Chuck and how his home got destroyed. 

Well, hello? It’s her home too? There’s not one single mention of her throughout the whole little newsflash.

Frustrated, she turns off the TV and goes out to see what Dean’s doing. Well, she didn’t expect for them to bring a fucking documentary about her but maybe they could acknowledge her either. It’s not hard. Chuck’s not the only one who was living there.

She finds Dean with his head deep in the hood of his car, and she actually has to chuckle at her finding because every time she’d find Chuck, Chuck would have his head in some girl's pussy. 

The view of Dean backside is fabulous, so she stares some more. His ass in his jeans is round and firm and oh my god, it gets her all flush and warm.

“What are you doing out here?” His voice startles her. 

“How did you know?” 

Because seriously, how did he? He still has his head turned away from her and is working on his car.

“I’m always aware of my surroundings, Mrs. Shurley. It’s my job.” 

So, she’s back to being Mrs. Shurley. 

She walks closer to him, comes to stand beside him as he tilts his head to the side a little and looks at her, “You’re good at what you’re doing, aren’t you?” 

Dean shrugs, “It’s really what I can do best.”

“So, your job is to protect me,” Y/N says, lets her fingers skim across the car and Dean comes out of the hood, stands straight up again to listen to her, “But you didn’t sign up to go and hide in the woods with me, why don’t you quit? Clearly this must be boring for you too.”

He takes the cloth and rubs his hands free from grease but he’s not looking at them, his gaze is still on her. 

“I worked out that part with your husband already. It was our plan D.”

She frowns, “Plan D? How many plans are there?”

There’s a light chuckle, and Dean takes a step closer, leans down, his face only inches from her as he whispers into her ear, “If I’d tell you, I’d have to kill you.”

She groans and Dean is laughing, takes a step back while he brushes at his forehead with his hand to get off the sweat.

It’s a nice sound. She likes that, likes how it rumbles, likes the bass of it, would definitely like to hear it more often.

“There’s something,” She says and points to her own forehead, telling him with her eyes that he has something on his, and he eyes her suspiciously.

“What?”

“Come here,” She grins, and he listens, takes a step towards her. 

When Dean’s close enough, she pulls at his shirt, makes him lean down to her and his gaze on her is intense.

God, his eyes are so green. 

She’s still smirking as she swipes at his forehead with her thumb, brushing away the dark grease stain. He’s so close, and she realizes how easy it would be to just lean forward and kiss him. She can’t help but wonder if he would kiss her back. Probably not. He’s too professional. And that makes her think if she’ll ever be able to crack him. Surely, Mr. Bodyguard must have a weakness. 

Her hand that was on his forehead travels down his cheek, and she feels the scruff underneath her palm. It prickles but she wouldn’t mind feeling it all over her body.

_ My god, Y/N, stop! Get a grip!  _ She shakes her head, trying to get the image out of her mind.

Dean blinks and it’s if he’s trying to find his composure either. He clears his throat, “Thanks.” And then he stands up so abruptly to turn around, she wonders if he has gotten a whiplash from it.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Dean says and closes the hood of his car with a bang that makes her flinch, “Why are you out here? Someone could see you.”

“I’m bored.” She pouts, “Can I use your phone to text my friend?”

Dean raises an eyebrow at her, “What friend?”

“Meg. She’s my bestie.”

“How good of a friend is she?”

“My god, Dean! Meg has nothing to do with this. I swear!”

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs before he takes his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it for her. He hands it over with a warning, “Don’t tell her where you are. Be absolutely vague about what happened.”

“Cross my heart,” She says with a smirk and walks over to sit on the stairs to the porch, where Dean’s still able to see her. She guesses that if he’s willing to give her his phone she at least can be respectful about it and not wander too far with it.

She texts Meg, knows the woman’s number by heart. It’s probably Meg’s lunch time too. At least she hopes so.

_ Y/N: Hey babe, it’s me, Y/N. I’m texting you from someone else’s phone because my phone is broken. _

She lies, Meg wouldn’t believe that her phone was broken in half with Dean’s bare hands anway.

_ M: Oh my god, I was wondering if you’re okay! I was worried out of my mind! _

_ Y/N: I’m sorry. I wanted to text you but everything happened so fast. _

_ M: Don’t worry, as long as you’re okay. You’re okay right? I heard what happened and then I texted and called but you never read the messages :( _

_ Y/N: Don’t worry about me, I’m okay. Chuck got me a bodyguard and we had to leave for my safety but I’m okay. _

_ M: A bodyguard? *wink wink* _

_ Y/N: Meg, stop. _

_ M: I won’t. Tell me about him. Is he good looking? Is he strong? I bet he’s strong. Oh my god I’m so jealous.  _

_ Y/N: I thought you’re dating Anna? _

_ M: I still like dick, though _

She has to laugh out loud, which prompts Dean to look at her funny. She clasps a hand over her mouth to laugh some more.

_ Y/N: Ah, well, yes, he’s big and strong and he has a nice tush.  _

_ M: You saw him naked yet? _

_ Y/N: Can we not talk about him?  _

_ M: We can but I don’t want to.  _

_ Y/N: Fine. No I haven’t why should I? _

_ M: You have got to find a way! _

_ Y/N: Meg, I’m married. _

_ M: Sorry, I just laughed so hard my coffee came out through my nostrils. Your marriage was dead over seven years ago and you know it. Remember you used to ask Chuck for a divorce every week until you completely gave up because he always said no? _

_ Y/N: I actually asked him again three weeks ago. _

_ M: The answer’s no, right? What excuse this time? No time? Some big signing coming up? Another social event that you need to pretend that you’re all lovey dovey? _

Meg’s right. Something always comes up because Chuck fears that she’ll walk away with half of what he owns. Honestly, right now she doesn’t even want a single dime. She just wishes to be free again. 

_ Y/N: He thinks I’ll take half of his money. _

_ M: Which you would be entitled to. _

_ Y/N: I don’t want it. I just want to be me again. _

_ M: So while you’re there, maybe flirt with your bodyguard. Live again! I bet he can handle a weapon perfectly. Probably has a big gun. *wink wink* _

_ Y/N: Meg! _

_ M: Shit! My break is over. I need to run. Get in touch again alright? I’m here if you need anything. _

_ Y/N: Thanks, I miss you. _

After the conversation, she places the phone on the stairs and Dean sees that she finished so he walks closer, takes his phone and sits down next to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She answers, “Just missing my home and my friend.”

Dean nods, takes his phone back and scans through the texts. She watches him squint his eyes and she blushes. 

“Wink wink?”

She snorts.

“I’m big and strong? And have a nice tush?” Dean frowns, “What does a tush even mean?”

Her face feels like it’s on fire, “Can you maybe not read out loud what I wrote?”

“Oh,” Dean clears his throat, “Yeah, sorry. I just,” He starts and then stops when he sees that her face is flushed. “I have to go into town to get some oil for the car, while I’m there, do you need anything? 

She sighs and hugs her knees to her chest, “A new identity?”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll see what I can do.” And then he eyes her, “You can also cut your hair a little. So people won’t recognize you.”

Y/N had thought about that too but ugh, it involves her using a scissor and she’s not very good with that. Every time she would try to give herself bangs, she would end up looking absolutely horrific.

Dean pockets his phone back and walks over to his motorcycle. “I’ll be gone one hour tops. Stay inside, okay? If there’s something, get into the bathroom and lock yourself in. It works as a panic room.”

“Okay,” She wants to say more but she doesn’t know what to say. Can she tell him to not go? Tell him that she wants to go with him?

He gives her a warm smile before he puts the helmet over his head and then he revs his engine, drives off before she can even tell him not to leave her alone.


	4. CH.04

Dean’s been gone for over an hour now and she starts to worry. He told her that he’ll only be away an hour, tops.

There had been sounds of motorcycles around the cabin all the time. She begins to think that there’s a popular excursion site or something close to here and she realizes that they’re not excluded as she first thought they would be.

She’s panicking because she’s slowly but surely losing her mind. With every sound of a motorcycle, she jumps up, thinking it’s Dean.

How fucking stupid of him to leave her alone. 

There’s another one that stopped close to the cabin. And then it’s like it only dawns on her now. What if the people who are after her have motorcycles too? What if they use it to confuse her?

She goes to the kitchen, grabs a knife and waits by the front door. She hears footsteps coming closer.

Her heart’s beating out of her chest.

The door opens and she holds the knife up, is fucking ready to attack.

“Woah, hey, it’s me!” Dean holds his hands up in defense when he sees her, one of them still clutching a bag of groceries, “What happened, why are you so agitated?”

She drops the knife as tears start to pool in her eyes. Her vision gets cloudy.

_ It’s Dean. Oh god, it’s Dean. _

“I’m scared,” She admits, “There were so many motorcycles driving around here. I thought maybe the people who are after me were driving one too?”

“Hey,” Dean lets the bag drop to the floor and pulls her to his chest, she cries some more, even if she doesn’t want to, “Shhh, I’m here okay? I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” 

She wraps her arms around his waist, and it’s good. Good to cry. She hasn’t done that in a while now.

“I’m sorry, I won’t leave you alone anymore.” Dean mumbles his big hand is stroking her back, one wraps tightly around her shoulder. The sound of his voice rumbles in his chest.

“You won’t?” She sniffs into his shirt.

“No,”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” Dean says before he starts to chuckle, “Just how much damage you thought you could have done with that knife?” 

“Hey! It’s a knife alright? I could have stabbed you!” She looks up to him, they still stand there, intertwined.

“It’s a butter knife!” Dean is laughing. His whole body shakes.

“It’s still a knife and I could have hurt you.” She says it with a pout.

“Of course,” Dean agrees and then it’s like he remembers that he’s standing there hugging her, so he lets go, brushes at her face with the pad of his thumb and swipes away the tears. His thumb brushes further down against her bottom lip and he leaves it there for a short moment while he stares at her.

“You’re cute with that knife. Not scary at all.” He says warmly and turns away, lets go of her and picks his bag and knife up from the floor before he walks towards the kitchen. 

  
  


*

  
  


Chuck called after they ate and Dean put him on speaker. 

Her husband only asks if Dean has everything under control to which Dean takes a little offense and says that of course he does, all while the creases on his forehead are deepening. She thinks Dean’s not very happy that someone is questioning his professionalism. He takes his job very seriously, she can see that, and maybe she’s a little disappointed about it.

He also only said hello to Y/N very briefly and then went on about how hard it was to get the blood and the stink of the blood out of  _ his _ house.

Even Dean frowns by the sheer amount of apathy Chuck shows towards her, to which she could only shrug with raised eyebrows, as if she tells him with her eyes _ , see that’s how much he really cares about me, _ in case he didn’t believe her before.

After the phone call Dean goes out to work on his car and she joins him. How can she not, she has literally nothing else to do.

Dean showed her a bookshelf in the cabin which contained an impressively large amount of books and she first tried to read something but couldn’t concentrate for long. 

She wanders out and Dean again has his head bowed and under the hood of his car.

Standing back, she admires the view. It’s a nice one, honest to god.

He only wears a simple black shirt and his jeans are bordering on a little too tight, not that she minds. She can see the muscle of his back moving as he works under the hood of his car. It gets her all worked up and she has to bite down on her lips so as not to make a sound.

Dean’s indeed strong and big. His hands are capable, can easily handle tools and even a weapon, and his fingers are deftly working on fixing up his car. 

Y/N wonders what else they’re capable of. She can’t help but feel a rush of blood to her head when she thinks back to how he held her in his arms. Thinks back to how easy it would have been, to pull him down, to kiss him. She’s imagining how he could have easily lift her up, could have easily pressed her against the next surface and kissed her stupid. 

A voice pulls her out of her trance.

“Are you staring at my ass?”

She turns red, “No?”

Y/N walks closer until she’s standing next to him and Dean turns to her. She can see the amused look on his face when he sees that she’s blushing.

“Liar,” He scoffs and braces both his hands on his car, “What are you doing out here again?”

She doesn’t answer. Wouldn’t know what to answer except that she’s bored but he already knows that anyway. 

Dean exhales and tilts his head to hers again, “You know, you would make my job so much easier if you’d listen to what I say.”

“Well, I guess you have to be more picky for your next job then,” She just shrugs and she can swear that she sees him smirk before his face goes back to being unreadable again. 

“Can I help?” She asks and Dean eyes her up and down.

“You wanna get your hands dirty?” 

“What? Do you think I can’t? I’m not a princess, Dean.” She takes the wrench, waves it around.

Dean has to hide his grin and raises an eyebrow, “Your husband isn’t exactly paying me to get you dirty.”

It sounds so wrong and Dean has to cough to cover the embarrassment. 

She smiles, flashes him her teeth, “Oh, you can see it as a tip to your pay. I can get even dirtier.” She winks, for good measure, and continues to fix the screw Dean was working on before.

They spent the afternoon fixing his car, but most of the time, she’s watching him. Can’t help it. He’s quite easy on the eye, that’s for sure. He might not know it, but when he’s deep in concentration, he’ll frown and the tip of his tongue peaks put to rest at the corner of his mouth. She thinks it’s adorable.

Dean slams the hood of his car down to signal that they’re finished.

“Thanks,” Dean smiles, “You really helped a lot. Not afraid to get your hands dirty, huh?” She might be wrong but she can hear the admiration in his voice.

“Nope,” Her face is flushed and she’s beaming. She feels really good because finally, she feels that she matters, that she can be useful for something.

He looks at her, a grin spreads around his lips and she can see the crinkles around his eyes deepening. He points at his own cheek, “You got something—” but before he finishes the sentence, he places his hand on the side of her face, “Let me just—” 

Dean brushes at her cheek with the pad of his thumb, has to rub again to get whatever it is out. And then he smiles when he’s done. 

The longer he stares at her, though, his smile starts to face. Soon, there’s no trace of a smile left, but instead, his expression gets darker, his eyes are intense and he looks at her as if he could eat her alive. Her heart races. His gaze on her feels like fire, her skin’s burning. 

She feels  _ something _ , maybe he feels that something too? His eyes travel from her eyes to her nose, her lips.

All of a sudden, her lips feel awfully dry so she licks at them. Dean swallows when he sees it, and she can feel that he’s holding himself back from reciprocating her own movements.

“We should go in,” Dean breaks the moment and turns away, leaving without even waiting for her to follow. She hears the door slam shut.

Wow, this is going well. 

When she gets inside, she can hear the shower running so she goes to the bedroom, kicks Dean’s bag to the side which he had left laying around instead of placing it back into the closet where he keeps it. Which suggests that he was probably in a hurry to get into the showers.

She begins to undress herself, wants to take a shower, too. Feels the need to get the grease off her body, maybe also to stop the aching between her thighs while she’s at it.

Just when she’s standing in the bedroom in her lingerie, Dean walks in wearing only his boxer briefs. His skin is still damp, his hair still wet. Drops of water still dripping down from his hair over his body.

Fuck, she’d like to lick it all up.

He clasps his hand over his eyes when he sees her, “Jesus Christ, Y/N! Put something on!”

“I could tell you the same,” She chuckles, takes the opportunity to look at him when he doesn’t see her staring. Dean’s body is firm and he has freckles all over. His tummy is soft but strong. She bites her lips when her eyes travel further down. There’s a little happy trail leading from below his navel to the elastic band of his underwear. His bulge is big. She doesn’t have a lot to compare it with but it’s definitely much bigger than Chuck’s and Dean’s not even hard. Well, maybe a little because he’s definitely also not soft.

Dean Winchester has a big gun, okay. 

“Are you dressed now?” He asks, loud and clear, as if him not seeing her means that she doesn’t hear him too.

Her lips curve into a smile, “Yes.”

Dean takes his hand away and looks at her, his gaze traveling over her briefly before he clasps his hand back over his eyes and now, he even turns around. “No you aren’t! Fucking christ, Y/N!”

Y/N can’t say that she minds seeing his backside either. 

She laughs, loud and hard. “Sorry but what’s the point of getting dressed when I was waiting for you to come out of the showers so I can go in?”

“Well, it’s free now!” Dean’s still so loud.

“Fine, I’m going. You can open your eyes now.”

Dean opens and turns around but this time, instead of him yelling at her or clasping a hand back over his eyes, he just looks at her and takes her in from head to toe. She can feel his gaze on her body, it sets it on fire. Her skin heats up, her head gets light.

She probably shouldn’t have teased him. She swallows, and she can see that something is swelling down there in his pants. The look he gives her is dark and hungry. As if he accepts her challenge.

Y/N lifts one eyebrow, decides to tease him some more because she’s come this far, there’s no going back, not that she really wants to go back anyway, “You like what you see?”

He takes a step closer, grins predatory, and with one swift motion, he pushes her back against the wall, one-handedly pinning both her hands above her head while his other hand sneaks around her waist. 

His face is merely inches from her, their noses almost touch, his hot breathing mingles with hers and she can feel his heartbeat because he melts his body to hers.

Dean swallows, his look is intense and he’s so close. Closer than he’d ever been before.

Y/N knows that Dean’s a professional, he would never do anything that could jeopardize his job, so if she wants something to happen, she knows that it’s going to be her who makes the first move. She bites down on her bottom lips, wonders if she wants anything to happen. 

Right now they can still walk away from it. They can still pretend that nothing happened.

But that’s not really what she wants. She wants it, wants to feel him. 

She closes her eyes and presses her wetted lips on his. To her surprise, Dean kisses her back and she parts so easily for him, letting his tongue explore her mouth while he lets go of her hands and hooks his arms around her thighs to lift her up, she wraps her legs around his waist. 

He kisses her deep and hard, there’s nothing gentle about the kiss. It’s both their sexual tension crashing together, it’s their anticipation finally finding release. The kiss is sloppy wet, all rough and demanding, and he grinds his swelling cock against her center. She’s awfully wet already. 

She sucks at his tongue, making him groan out into her mouth, her hands hook themselves around his neck, her nails scraping at his back. 

He kisses down her chin, sucks and nibbles along her throat and she moans.

“Dean,” Her voice is shaking, “I need more.”

He sucks at her pulse point, mumbles against her skin, “What do you want?”

“More,” Y/N lets out a shaky breath, “I want more, please,”

One of Dean’s hands works it’s way down her body, kneads at her tits before he finds the peak of her nipple and pulls at it through her bra. He doesn’t leave his hand there, though, moves further down, wedges his hand between both of their bodies until he’s palming at her stomach.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” His voice drops, it deep and gravelly. 

_ Baby. _

She fucking likes the sound of that word.

“Fuck,” She moans, his scruff scratches at her throat on his way up to claim her mouth again.

He’s hard, she can feel it, the amount of friction against her pussy is just right but also not nearly enough.

Dean bites at her lower lip, making her yelp up again. It doesn’t hurt, it just took her by surprise because she’s never kissed someone so roughly. 

However, the yelp is enough to bring Dean back to reality and he stops kissing her. His eyes fly open, taking her in as he still pants against her spit slick lips.

Startled, he pulls back and let her down on her feet.

“‘M sorry,” Dean swallows, his lips are red and swollen from kissing. She thinks that hers probably doesn’t look any different.

“This shouldn’t have happened.” He looks down to his feet, not quite able to look her in the eye, “It’s my fault. I shouldn't have let this happen. Your husband is a client. You’re my job.” He rubs one hand over his face, scratches at his beard, “Can we pretend this,” He gestures between the both of them, “Never happened?”

“Okay,” She agrees, not because she wants to fucking pretend, but more because she doesn’t want to put him in an awkward situation. She knows she can never pretend that it didn’t happen. It was quite memorable. Her heart is still thumping out of her chest, her cheeks probably all shades of pink.

“Good. I’m sorry. I can normally control myself better, I’m usually more professional.” He finally looks at her but then he quickly looks away to clear his throat, “You should go take a shower, I’ll cook dinner.”

“Okay,” She says, because she’s too baffled to say anything more.


	5. CH.05

Y/N gets woken up in the middle of the night by weird noses. It sounds like someone is scratching against the bedroom wall on the outside. She doesn’t know what it is, and doesn’t dare look. It could be anything really. Maybe a gust of wind carried a branch here, maybe there are wild animals outside. She thinks about how it could be anything but she doesn’t let her mind wander and assume the worst. 

Should she wake Dean up for it? She hates to wake him up if it’s really nothing, though.

She decides to wait a little bit longer, maybe it’ll go away. But she hears the clock ticking while the noise stays.

“Dean,” She whispers and looks to the open door.

To her surprise, Dean’s already standing in the doorway, his gun cocked and hair disheveled. He’s wearing some pj pants and a white t-shirt. 

“Get out of the bed and come stand behind me!” He hisses as he creeps along the wall towards the window. 

She frowns a little but does what she’s told and gets out of bed, tip toes her way over to where Dean’s standing.

His eyes widen when he sees that she only wears a set of comfortable Calvin Klein underwear, and he rolls his eyes at that, “Jesus, what are you wearing for bed?”

“What’s wrong with that? It’s hot here, alright?” She comes to stand behind him now. 

“Always wear something, Y/N. You never know when you need to up and leave.” Dean hisses through gritted teeth as he looks out of the window from the side, keeping himself from being seen.

“Well, excuse me but I never had to  _ up and leave _ before in my life!” 

Dean ignores her, instead he peeks out and after a long moment, he starts to chuckle.

“What?” She asks him.

“Come see,” He says, and stands back a little, making room for her to push past him in order to be able to steal a look herself. 

It’s a mother bear and her cub, probably searching for food. Her eyes widen as she takes it in and watches them. She’s never seen bears from up close before. Not in the  _ wild _ . She watches until they walk back towards the thick of the forest where they came out from, probably unsatisfied because they didn’t find anything here.

“We’re safe.” Dean exhales, he’s probably relieved himself, “You can go back to sleep.”

She climbs back to bed, while Dean watches her, making sure to stick her ass out, because she likes to rile him up. She goes back to bed without protest either. Mainly because she doesn’t want to be a pain in his ass. Dean already has his hands full with taking care of her and she at least can cut him some slack. 

While she tries to make herself comfortable in bed, Dean rummages in the closet and tosses her a shirt. It hits her square in her face and he laughs before he walks away while telling her to  _ fucking wear it _ . 

She’s holding up the shirt, sees that it’s not hers because it’s too big, so it must be one of his. She pulls it over her head and brings it to her face to smell at it.

“Don’t worry, it’s a fresh shirt.” Dean calls out from the living room.

_ How does he fucking knows? _

She smirks and lays back down, taking in his scent one more time and closes her eyes. 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


The next two days were pretty awkward. 

But maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her. 

There were lots of looking at each other when the other one was not looking. Because how else could she explain the burning sensation she felt on her skin? The same thing she always felt when he looked at her with hungry eyes. She mostly felt it on her back when she had it turned to him and every time she looked back at him, he had his head turned downwards or had it tilt the other way.

It seemed to her that Dean avoided her more either. When he would be in a room and she would walk in to grab something, he would storm out of whatever room he was in and honestly, it was weird and fucking awkward because there aren’t many rooms in this cabin.

Dean would also cringe every time their skin would brush against each other by accident. 

Which is really, really not how she wants someone to react to her touches.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


She’s in bed reading when Dean walks in on the afternoon of their third day in hiding.

“Your friend,” He says and hands her his phone.

Y/N takes the phone out of his hand and sees that Dean has already put Meg on speaker phone.

He sits down at the foot of the bed, listening in on the conversation and she doesn’t like that at all but apparently that’s the rule.

“Hey,” She says, her eyes are on Dean but he looks away.

“Oh my god, the guy who picked up, is that your bodyguard?”

“Yes?” She answers.

“Fuck, Y/N, he sounds sexy as fuck. His voice is so deep, so gravelly, it makes my skin tingle. I bet he makes other parts of you tingle, too, isn’t he?”

She turns red, “Meg,” It’s supposed to be a warning to her friend without saying too much. She hopes Meg gets it.

“No, seriously, I bet he’s fucking sexy, isn’t he? Probably could lift you up one armed and I bet he can fuck you as deep as his voice is.”

Apparently, Meg doesn’t get it.

Y/N watches Dean and see’s that he tries to suppress a smirk. His face settles for a frown instead.

“Meg!” She shouts, trying to stop her friend.

“Seriously, Y/N, you gotta live. Can’t be that Chuck that sleazy weasel gets to have all the fun and you don’t!”

“Is there a reason for your call?” She asks Meg with annoyance in her voice and that does the trick because it seems like Meg gets what Y/N was trying to say.

“Ugh, he’s listening isn’t he?”

She huffs out a tired chuckle, “Yeah.”

“Hi, Mr. Bodyguard, I was just joking,”

Dean turns his head to the phone, “Hi,” He says, and then a little lower, as if he wants to tease the shit out of Meg, “Meg, is it?”

There’s a squeal on the other end and Dean raises an eyebrow at Y/N to which she just shrugs.

“Like Y/N said, is there a reason you called, Meg?” Dean asks.

Meg whimpers, “Oh my god,”

There’s a long pause.

“Meg, did you just have an orgasm or something?” Y/N’s giggling.

“I’m close, can’t lie. Mr. Bodyguard, have you ever thought about working for a phone sex line? Becau—”

“—Meg!” She cuts her friend off. 

“Alright, listen, you two, I went on facebook today and TMZ posted an article about Y/N’s kidnapping.”

“They what about what?” Dean’s voice cuts in, and it’s loud, it makes her flinch.

“Yeah,” Meg says, “You can look for yourself. I thought you weren’t kidnapped? But Chuck gave an exclusive interview, and even a reward is out for your safe return.”

“What the fuck!” She looks at Dean and he stands up, he’s agitated but he keeps his composure.

“Okay, thanks, Meg. She’s not kidnapped. But please keep that to yourself until we talk to Chuck. Can you do that?”

“Of course, Mr. Bodyguard.”

“We need to go. Bye Meg, miss you.” She says quickly because Dean’s already walking out into the living room and starts up his laptop.

She follows and slams his phone on the table where he’s sitting, “Who the fuck are you?”

Dean looks up from the laptop, there’s a pained expression on his face. “Your bodyguard.”

“Why should I believe you?” She shouts and starts to pace around the room.

“Your husband knows where we are! Why should I kidnap you and even let you talk to your friend?”

“But you don’t let me go anywhere!” She lets out a frustrating groan that comes out from the depths of her throat.

“Because I have to fucking keep you safe!” Dean stands up and pushes his chair back with a screech.

Y/N’s eyes find Dean’s gun on the table and she takes it, aiming it at Dean and he looks at her in bewilderment.

“Y/N, put that down,” His voice is firm, as if he puts his foot down by only speaking to her. It sounds final, like it’s his way or no way.

She’s crying, even though she doesn’t want to, “No. Who are you, Dean? Why me? If you know us, you’d know that Chuck doesn’t give a fuck about me. He probably would kill me himself if someone would ask him for ransom money for my safe return.”

Her hands are shaking, her grip on the gun is tight, the white of her knuckles showing.

Dean purses his lips and then everything happens so fast. 

One moment she has the gun aimed at him and the next she finds herself pinned against the wall, his hand on her wrist and there’s nothing that she could do other than letting him take the gun from her hand. He’s so close, his face a mere inch from hers, his breath mingles with hers and the look on his face is a mixture between anger and pain.

“Sweetheart, next time you aim a gun at someone, make sure the safety’s off,” Dean reaches back, tucks his gun into his pants, but she’s still pinned there. 

Dean's eyes are on her, his breathing picks up when he brushes the tears away from her cheeks. He leaves his thumb on her bottom lip, drags it down, making her open her mouth. 

The next thing she knows he’s kissing her. And instead of it being rough like the kiss they shared before, this one is much gentler. He presses his body to her, his hands kneading at the flesh of her hips while he maps out her mouth with his tongue. And she wants more, wants everything he’s able to give her.

Before it can grow heavier, Dean breaks the kiss and steps back. His teeth gnawing at his bottom lip before he looks downwards, “Shit, I shouldn’t. ‘M sorry.”

She places her fingers to her lips, feels them hot and wet. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I—” Dean lets out a breath, “—I don’t know what came over me.” He rubs at his forehead, “You gotta believe me, Y/N. I’m not a kidnapper.” Dean walks back to the table and grabs his phone, thumbs over his screen to dial a number.

She walks closer, sees that he dials Chuck.

Chuck doesn’t pick up.

That’s typical. He probably is screwing some hoes.

Dean hangs up, and takes his phone, thumbs over something and then he hands it to her.

It’s text messages between him and Chuck.

_ D: Everything’s alright, sir. _

_ D: We stay put. _

_ D: Nothing happened. _

Dean text’s Chuck up to six times on a daily basis since they’re here and Chuck always only sends him one text each day with the word, “Okay.”

“You know, I have no idea about Chuck’s plans nor the police’s plans,” Dean’s head is low when he comes to stand in front of her, “My only job is to keep you safe.”

“Okay,” 

“I thought you were joking at first when you said that your husband doesn’t care about you. Couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact how someone could not at least care a little bit about the person they’re married to but then I saw it with my own eyes. The lack of empathy he shows you is mind blowing.” Dean let out a tired chuckle.

She swallows.

“He sent you away with me. We are glued together for three days and he doesn’t fucking care.” His voice drops just a little lower, “You deserve better.”

“He never did,” She mumbles because it’s true. All her fucking husband has to say is  _ okay _ ? O-fucking-kay?

Dean reaches out a hand, places it on the back of her neck, pulls her a little closer and lowers himself and all she sees is the green of his eyes, “I need you to trust me, okay? I’m not a kidnapper. I have nothing to do with it. All I’m doing is keeping you safe and it would be good if you would trust me on this.”

She nods. He’s so close. It makes her want to surge forward, makes her want to kiss him—

— but she doesn’t.

“Good,” He says, “Let’s see what that website says, okay?” 

Dean walks back over and sits down and she follows, comes to stand next to him. He looks up at her then, “What’s the website called again?”

Instead of answering, she types it in for him, her upper arm brushes against his scruff after she takes her arm back, it leaves behind a longing inside of her.

There’s a picture of Chuck on the front page, next to it is a picture of her in a dramatic bubble. 

_ CHUCK SHURLEY PLEADS TO KIDNAPPER: PLEASE DON’T HARM MY WIFE. _

She snorts when she sees the headline.

Dean reads the article aloud, “Apparently he received an email telling him to pay $5 million for your safe return. He has seven days and if not they’d kill you.”

“This is bullshit,” She huffs out a breath, “What is Chuck playing?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like this at all.” Dean closes his laptop and leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming away on the closed laptop.

  
  



	6. CH.06

They tried to reach Chuck again later in the day but Chuck still wouldn’t pick up so they tried to go about the rest of their day like they usually would. 

Dean left two more voicemails before they ate dinner and Y/N can see that he’s agitated when the clock strikes 8pm without so much of a return text or call from Chuck.

She’s worried too, doesn’t really understand why Chuck would tell the tabloids that she’s been kidnapped when it’s clearly not the case. Of course she can’t be sure if Dean’s telling her the truth either, but Dean’s been more sincere in the three days that she’s gotten to know him than Chuck ever was. 

Maybe, though, it can also be that she suffers from Stockholm syndrome. Who knows. She’s confused, that’s all she really knows.

Dean’s typing away on his laptop while she offers to clean the dishes and when she finishes, she walks out to him telling her that he has to go into town for a short while.

“Can I come?” She asks but he frowns at that. “You promised that you weren’t going to leave me here on my own anymore.” She then adds, just to remind him.

Dean sighs, rubs his hand over his face, strokes at his scruff, “I did, didn’t I?”

She braces her hands on her waist, and stares him down. 

Dean scoffs while he pushes his chair back with a screech, “Fine,”

He walks into the bedroom and gets something out of the closet, walks out with a baseball cap in his hand and comes to stand before her, “Wear this when we get there.” He places the cap on her head, brushes her hair back from her face, “No one will really recognize you like that.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Dean parks his bike outside of a bar. The sign reads  _ Harvelle’s Roadhouse _ and it glows in the dark in blinding neon letters.

They take off their helmets and she puts the cap Dean handed her before on her head. It’s too big but it's probably just better like that. It makes her look more invisible.

“You probably don’t even have to wear it here. The people don’t really care who you are but I’d rather be safe than sorry.” He says while he waits for her to walk around the bike. He takes her hand in his, pushes his way through the door, and pulls her along with him.

He shoulders his way past the people and they all part for him. It is really impressive. 

They reach the far side of the bar and the bartender greets Dean with a big smile. “Hey Dean,”

“Cas, this is Y/N.”

“Nice meeting you,” The bartender says and nods, his smile’s still big. 

“Right,” Dean clears his throat, “I need to see Ash,” And then Dean turns to her, “You wait here, I’ll be quick.”

“But—”

Dean places a hand on the back of her neck, his thumb brushes against her cheek, “Please, trust me.” 

She pouts, “Okay.”

Dean nods, and then he lets go of her. Turning to Cas, he says, “Can you watch? I’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

“Sure thing,” Cas answers and starts to tap a beer.

Dean nods at Cas and then at her before he disappears through a back door.

Ash? Who is Ash? She’s not sure if she really wants to know.

“Want anything to drink?” Cas asks her while he serves the beer to the person who’s standing next to her. That guy eyes her up but then he doesn’t pay her any attention, walks back to his peers at the pool table.

She turns her gaze back to Cas, “Uh, I don’t have any money.”

Her cheeks are on fire. She hasn’t even thought about bringing anything with her. Since she doesn’t have a phone anymore, carrying other things around seems pointless to her.

“It’s on the house, don’t worry about that. Gotta take care of Dean’s girl, don’t I?” Cas wriggles with his brows.

“We’re just friends. And I’d like a gin, please.”

Cas laughs, the sound of it bright and she can clearly hear it above the music, “Of course, you are. One gin coming up.”

A bar stool empties next to her so she takes a seat, and soon after, Cas places a glass of gin in front of her. 

“You sure I don’t need to pay?” She asks again just to be extra sure.

Cas braces his hands on the counter and leans down a little, “Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure,”

“I don’t really work here. Just helping out.” Cas winks before he goes about taking another order from someone across the bar.

She didn’t even finish her gin before Dean came back. He eyes her when he sees her drinking but there’s amusement in his eyes. 

“You ready to go?” Dean asks and downs the rest of her gin. 

“Well, I am now.” She pouts but Dean chuckles, and takes her hand, pulling her out of the bar. He didn’t even say goodbye to Cas.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


They arrive at the cabin and the first thing they see is a limousine. Dean pulls his gun out of his pants, draws it and makes her hide behind him while they walk closer. There are two figures waiting on the steps to the cabin.

Chuck.

And there’s also an angry looking guy who she knows as Chuck's own bodyguard who Chuck always uses when he goes out of town.

“Where were you?” Chuck asks. He sounds angry.

Dean lowers his gun, tucks it back and proceeds to fish out the cabin key and unlocks the door for all of them to step in.

Chuck's bodyguard closes the door while they all stand awkwardly in the tiny space.

“Sir, we had to get food,” Dean lies, doesn’t look at her once.

“You didn’t bring anything back.” Chuck states.

“We decided to eat out.”

“Isn’t that risky?” Chuck paces around the cabin and cringes his nose.

“You putting out that she’s been kidnapped is risky, sir.” Dean stares Chuck down.

Her husband laughs, “Is that why you were bothering me with your calls?”

Dean and her don't say anything.

Chuck trails his hand through his hair, “We try to confuse the real kidnapper, we think if they know that someone else got to her, that they’ll give up.”

“You should have informed us.” Dean’s hand balls into fists on his side.

“You’re right,” Chuck says, “But also I don’t pay you to know things, Mr. Winchester, I pay you to keep her safe.”

It’s the first time Chuck even looks at her since he’s here. Her expression towards him is cold. She really doesn’t care anymore.

“Yes, sir.” Dean grits his teeth. He’s mad, she can tell by the tense of his shoulders.

“Anyway, I need to fly to Vegas. My private plane’s already waiting. Keep me updated, alright?”

Chuck’s out the door before either one of them even had the chance to say something.

After Chuck has left, Dean looks at her, the tense in his posture is gone, “You okay?”

She chuckles drily, “Yeah,”

“Fuck,” Dean breathes out, “‘M sorry. You definitely deserve someone who treats you better.”

_ Someone like you? _ She wants to ask but doesn’t.

Dean’s frown makes way for a small smile after they heard the car driving away. “How about we go back, have a drink, huh? I know I could use one.”

“Please,” She groans out and Dean chuckles, takes her hand, pulls her out and leads her onto his motorcycle.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


There are even more people at the Roadhouse this time around, she can already tell by the cars and motorcycle. She put on Dean’s cap again and he grins when he sees that she’s thorough. 

He holds out his hand, waits for her to place hers into his and together, they make a beeline to the bar. There are two people behind the bar now. A young blonde woman and Cas. 

Cas looks at her with amusement in his eyes when she arrives. Wordlessly, he places a tumbler with whiskey in front and asks her if she’s going to stay with gin. 

“Actually, I think I’m having a whiskey, too.” She smiles, bright and wide.

“Woah, you be careful, alright? You need to be able to sit on the motorcycle on the way back.” Dean teases her but she just shoots him a glare which shuts him up. 

“Dean,” It’s a woman’s voice.

“Uh-oh,” Cas chuckles but she doesn’t know what he’s trying to say.

Dean turns around to face a pretty girl and she smiles at him, flashes him her white teeth. 

“Liz,” Dean greets the woman. She doesn’t know if she’s just making it up but he seems to be acting kind of cold to her.

“It’s just so nice to see you again, and listen—”

“—Not here Liz,” Dean cuts her off.

Dean turns his gaze to Y/N, and leans forward, his face inches from hers, “I’ll be right back, you stay, okay?” He whispers into her ear and then he nods at Cas before he walks a couple of yards away from her with ‘Liz’.

She watches them talk and she can see from here that Dean’s face stays cold. The frown is still there, still prominent. He steals glances at her while the woman talks to him and Y/N quickly looks away, doesn’t want to seem like she’s intruding. 

Cas is back in front of her, leans down and braces his elbow on the bar top, “Liz, is his ex.” Cas says, she didn’t even ask.

“Oh,” 

“They were together for a couple of years. I think for the whole duration when he was stationed in Afghanistan.”

Right. She forgot that Dean’s an ex-marine. She never asked what he did before he became a bodyguard.

“You wanna know a secret?”

She grins at Cas, “Just how many secrets are you going to reveal to me tonight?”

He chuckles at that and Dean looks over, sees them laughing and Dean frowns some more. 

“The night’s still young. I don’t really count,” Cas shrugs, “Anyway, turns out Liz cheated on him the whole time. Got pregnant and he thought that he was the father until he realizes that it didn’t add up with him being deployed.”

“Oh, that’s sad.”

“Yeah, but I think he made peace with it. At least they are on talking terms again.” Cas and her look over to Dean at the same time to which Dean’s eyebrow climbs up his forehead.

“Ah, so, what are you to him?” Cas turns his attention back to her.

“We’re friends,” She lies about the bodyguard part, and doesn't know how much she can reveal. The friend thing is the truth, she really does think that they’re kind of friends.

“Yeah, right,” Cas scoffs.

“It’s the truth,” She laughs now. 

“Y/N, I see the way he looks at you. That’s as far away from  _ friends _ as it could get.”

She drinks her whiskey, squints at the burn, “So, you’re telling me that we’re enemies?”

Cas just smiles, and raises one eyebrow, “Sweetheart, he cares about you.”

She almost chokes on her drink, “He really doesn’t.”

“Watch this,” Cas grins and winks at her, before he looks over to Dean. She tilts her head too, sees that he’s in a deep conversation with Liz. 

Cas then leans forward, his nose brushes her cheek, “If he wouldn’t care, then I can do this,” Cas kisses her on her cheek, lets his lips linger there. 

“Cas,” Dean’s voice is deep and it’s now behind her, it rolls over the bass of the music, “Another whiskey, please.”

How did he get here so fast? Cas didn’t even pull away from her face yet. 

“Your glass is still half full.” Cas chuckles.

“I want another one.” Dean shrugs and sits on the empty bar stool next to her. 

She can see out of the corner of her eyes that Liz is still standing there, frozen in place, which probably suggests that Dean left to come back here before they finished their conversation.

Dean turns to her and there’s that intense gaze again. 

Cas is pouring Dean another whiskey, and he couldn’t help but wriggle his eyebrows at her behind Dean’s back. She has to compose herself so as not to laugh out loud.

“You like it here?” He asks her as Cas places another tumbler next to Dean’s still half full one. Dean ignores Cas, which prompts Cas to roll his eyes.

“Yeah. I do. But do you think it’s safe?”

“I know it is.” Dean says, and adds, “I know all of the people here. They’re all alright. Except of Cas.”

She snorts out a laugh and Dean grins.

“Can I ask you something?” Out of the corner of her eyes, she still sees Liz watching them. Dean can’t see it because he has his back to her.

“Shoot,” 

“Who’s the woman?”

Dean turns his head to see who she’s talking about and then he turns back to her, “Liz.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

Dean sighs, “It’s been a while since I saw her last. Don’t worry about her.”

“I mean, I do. Like, I don’t want to put you in an awkward situation. If you want to... you know, rekindle something, you can just drop me off and go meet her after?”

“Y/N,” Her name rolls off his lips, it sounds strict, and she thinks he’s a little mad at her?

“Just saying,” She shrugs.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean rubs over his scruff, tilts his head to look away briefly but then his eyes settle on her again. 

There’s a distance between them but their knees touch. 

“You’re my priority,” He says, his voice deep and it sounds kind of final, “I’m not going to leave you alone to go do something stupid that I’ll regret.” He then scoffs, it sounds more mockery, “Besides, I don’t want her.” 

Her gaze travels back to where Liz is standing. She’s talking to some other dude but every now and then, she would still look at Dean, “Well, she clearly wants you.” Y/N says, she’s really just stating the obvious.

Dean doesn’t look back, doesn’t avert his eyes from Y/N. “She had her chance and she blew it.”

“I’m sorry to hear.”

“It’s in the past,” He sighs, “Also, I still think that sometimes, things happen for a reason.”

She doesn’t say anything to it because she doesn’t know what she could say. He’s still looking at her, it seems that his eyes are a shade darker.


	7. CH.07

_ “Also, I still think that sometimes, things happen for a reason.” _

Y/N let his words sink in. 

Maybe Dean’s right. Maybe if she wouldn’t have married Chuck and Chuck wouldn’t have been such an asshole, nobody would have sent her threats, and Chuck wouldn’t have gotten her a bodyguard. That would have meant that she would have never met Dean. She would be doomed to stay in a loveless marriage until the end of her days without knowing that there are good people out there, people who wouldn’t want to hurt her. People who want the best for her, people who protect her and maybe people who love her.

She watches him empty his whiskey but he doesn't touch his second one. He probably needs a clear head and besides, he still needs to drive them home. He sets his empty glass down, toys with it, twirls it in his hand before he abandons it and turns his face back to her.

His hand goes up to his cap on her head, and he’s smiling, “You look cute,” He then turns the cap around, so it sits backwards on her head, “Even cuter now.” He purses his lips to a grin and his dimples are showing. 

Her cheeks heat up a little more, and it’s definitely not the effect of the alcohol in her bloodstreams.

Dean trails his knuckles along her cheek, lingers on the place where Cas has left a kiss. He sighs, “Listen, if I should do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell me, alright? My job is to protect you and I can’t do that if you don’t feel comfortable around me.”

“Okay,” She nods her head.

He smiles at her, his crinkles deep, “Good.” Dean leans forward, kisses her cheek, his lips lingers on the place where Cas kissed her just moments before.

Her heart races, the sound of it filling her ears and that’s the only thing she hears right now. The chatter of the people, the music in the background, all is gone. All she sees is Dean’s smirk and all she feels is a burning sensation on her cheek. 

Suddenly, though, the music gets louder, jerking her out of her trance. There’s a shift in the atmosphere of the bar and she quite likes that. They’re all cheering and laughing, drinking and shouting, and some of them are starting to dance. 

“Hey, Y/N, you want to dance?” Cas comes to stand next to her, reaches out a hand for her to take, he’s smiling from ear to ear. 

“No, she doesn’t.” Dean’s voice rolls rough and deep, it cuts right through her train of thought. 

“I think she can answer that by herself, no?” Cas says in a playful tone of voice. Cas obviously knows Dean very well and knows just the right thing to say to push at Dean’s buttons. She also knows that it’s a way for Cas to show her that Dean indeed cares for her.

“If she dances, then it’s with me.” Dean answers, in the same tone that says so much as,  _ what I say is final _ . 

“Fair enough,” Cas says with a shrug, and winks at her subtly before he turns away. 

Dean didn’t see it because he only looks at her, “So, you wanna dance?”

“Do you?” She grins. She doesn’t really think that Dean’s a dancer. 

“I normally don’t,” He states, “But if you want to, we can.”

It’s also something new, something she still has to get used to. Never has anyone done anything just to keep her happy. Chuck certainly didn’t. It was all about him all the time, never about her. 

“No, I actually don’t want to,” she says and she can hear Dean letting out a grunt. 

It’s a white lie. She likes to dance, but she doesn’t want Dean to go out of his way for her.

“Thank god,”

“I’m a terrible dancer.” She smirks, “So, I’m saving you some sore feet.” 

Dean laughs at that. It’s a beautiful sound. The crinkles show around his eyes, he’s truly enjoying her company and that, she thinks, is great.

“What do you think? Time to go home?” He asks after a while of watching people dance and after she downed his extra glass of whiskey.

She still shudders at the burn, “Yeah.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


This time when they arrive at the cabin, there’s nobody waiting for them. 

Dean unlocks the door and they step in. She takes off her shoes and Dean too walks around in shocked feet. 

“You want anything to eat?” He’s already walking into the kitchen and takes a bottle of water out of the fridge. He comes in again and all she can do is to grin stupidly at him. He takes a sip, holds it out for her with a frown, “What?”

“You wanna dance?” She asks and Dean almost snorts out the water in his mouth.

“Now?”

“Yeah,” She’s smiling, downs half of the water bottle by herself before she hands it back to him. 

“Here?”

“Duh,”

Dean empties the water bottle and walks back into the kitchen to throw it into the sink while she moves the table. 

He comes out again and looks at her with amusement in his eyes while he leans against the door frame, watching her move the table and the chairs, his arms crossed over his chest, “You okay there?”

“Yeah, it’d be faster if you’d help me.” 

“You have had way too much to drink,” Dean scoffs but he walks over, helps her push the table to the side and moves both of the chairs away like they weigh fucking nothing. 

When he’s done Dean stands awkwardly in the room, his hands akimbo, “We don’t have music, you know that right?”

She only smiles at him as she goes to stand before him and places her one hand on his shoulder. 

Dean sighs before he lifts up one hand and lets her place her hand in his, “You’d tell me if you smell burned toast, don’t you?”

She snorts out a laugh at that, “Relax, let’s dance.”

He sneaks his hand around her waist and they move together in silence. She places her head on his chest, hears Dean’s steady heartbeat that seems to speed up the longer they are moving together. 

Y/N looks up to him and smiles, “You’re not bad.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Dean snorts, and adds, “I take it as a compliment.”

“It is.” She whispers, and then she takes her hand out of his and moves them up, hooks both of them around Dean’s neck. 

He hugs his arms around her waist in return. 

“Thanks for taking me out, I needed it.” She says, stands on her tip toes and places a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Dean looks at her with a startled expression at first but then, his face softens, “You’re welcome.” And then he adds, “Did you have fun?”

She chuckles, “Yeah, I did.”

He hugs her just a little tighter, his fingers spanning over the side of her body, “You know, I thought it wouldn’t affect me but to tell you the truth? I hated seeing people flirt with you.”

Y/N pulls back a little and looks Dean in the eye, “Who was flirting with me?”

“Cas.”

“Oh,” She laughs, “Cas didn’t flirt with me.”

“That’s actually not the point.” Dean goes on, and she moves her arms to wrap them around his waist, and presses her face back on his chest. She loves how the bass of his voice sounds inside of him when he talks to her. 

“What is the point then?” 

“The point being, that I thought I could ignore my feelings. That I could keep things professional between us, and I know I really wanted to, but you kind of throw all my morals out the window. You’re hard to resist.”

She looks up and grins, “How hard?”

There’s his eye roll and then he sighs before pushing a hand between them and places it on her chin while he tilts her face up to look at him. “You felt it too, didn’t you? The awkwardness in the beginning? I was fucking hard all the time and that’s the reason why I needed to avoid you. You’re my job and I’m usually a professional bodyguard.”

“Oh,” Yeah, she remembers him storming out of the room as soon as she enters, “Well, how hard are you now?” Y/N looks up at him with a teasingly grin, cocks her eyebrows before pressing her body flush to his, and she chuckles when she feels how hard he is. 

“So,” He leans down a little to peck her nose, “Fucking,” Leaves another peck on her lips, “Hard.” He emphasizes each word with a thrust of his hips before he kisses her. It’s hot and hungry, it leaves her head spinning.

The kiss is equally rough like the first one they shared, all tongues and teeth, all sloppy wet and she moans into his mouth while he lifts her up by the back of her thighs. She throws her arms around his neck, wraps her legs around his middle, and hooks her feet around his back as he continues to kiss her and walks with her to the bedroom. 

Dean’s capable with his fingers, alright, because as soon as he drops her down on her feet, he starts to work on the button of her shorts, even without looking because his eyes are closed as he still kisses himself stupid on her. He doesn’t wait until she drops the pants, instead his fingers skim over her stomach and he bites on her bottom lip, making her yelp up. 

His other hand pulls her closer by the back of her neck and she can’t help but moan out his name.

“What do you want?” He asks when she hears her pleading gasps. 

“More,”

“Yeah?” Dean chuckles, kisses her jaw, nibbles down her throat as his hands find a way inside of her panties, fingers rubbing against her clit. 

Before she can say that she wants even more, Dean picks her up and throws her onto the bed. She laughs when her head hits the pillow. 

His hands grab at her socks, pulling them off before trailing them further up, leaving a burning sensation on her skin in their wake.

He hooks his fingers into her shorts, takes them off and throws them somewhere. She doesn’t know where, not that she really cares. Dean lays down after, shouldering himself between her thighs and begins to kiss his way up, inching closer to where she needs him the most. 

“Dean,” She lets out a whimper, her hands soon find his head, threads her fingers through the thick of his hair. 

Dean chuckles, kisses at her heat through her panties. Tongue licking and sucking at the already soaked fabric. He moans audibly before he hooks one finger inside the crotch of her panties and pulls it aside. 

And then—

He pauses for a long time. 

“Dean,” She braces herself up on her elbows to look at him.

He doesn’t hear her, and she can feel his gaze burning over her already hot cunt. 

Dean blinks and she can see that he’s back. He chuckles, “Fuck, such a pretty pussy,” He presses a finger to the hood of her clit, massages circles on it, “What do you want, baby? You gotta tell me.”

He’s still rubbing slowly, making her arch her back. What should she say, really. She’s never been good at telling what she wants in bed. Chuck never asked. It’s mostly been about him. She’s not used to it being all about her. 

His hot breath hits her core, “Tell me,” He whispers, his eyes are intense, predatory, “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you everything, I just want you to say it.” His voice raspy, she can feel it vibrating throughout her body.

“I— I want you,” She just says, and blushes. She knows full well that it’s probably not as dirty as he would like to hear but this is all new to her, for god’s sake!

“You’re so fucking cute,” He chuckles and lowers his mouth to her cunt, licks a broad stripe through her center, tongue parting her lips to tickle at her sensitive nub.

She writhes underneath him and he hooks his hand around her thighs, spreads her wide while his hands both meet on her lower stomach to keep her in place. “Fuck,”

Dean chuckles against her pussy, hums while he sucks and it’s the best feeling. She’s never felt anything like it. 

He buries his face deeper into her cunt, licks and sucks as if his life depends on it. Like it really  _ is _ something fucking delicious. 

Her toes start to curl and her legs tremble. Her hands fly around his head and she grabs at his hair for purchase while she pushes her cunt against his face. Dean hums some more and sucks harder when he feels her shaking all around him.

“Dean, I— I’m—” She chokes out, doesn’t really know what she’s saying, doesn’t hear herself or anything at all, for that matter.

Dean pauses to whisper, “Come, baby. Be a good girl and come for me,” 

That really does the trick because she’s convulsing around him, shaking and moaning, shouting out his name when she comes all over his face.

Wow. She thinks she blacked out for a while and when she opens up her eyes again, Dean’s staring at her, a cocky grin on his face.

“Jesus, you taste so fucking sweet,” He comes up after he lets her ride her orgasm out on his face, kisses along her stomach and then abruptly pushes himself away and off the bed. 

Y/N laughs when she comes down from her high, right on time to watch Dean hastily taking off his plaid and pulling his shirt off his body. 

He unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his pants quickly and lets it drop down before stepping out of them. He proceeds to take off his socks and almost falls flat on his face. 

“Very graceful,” She teases him. 

Dean looks at her grumpily, “Ha ha. Shut up,” He drops his underwear with a downwards swipe, revealing his rock hard cock that stands erect and  _ that _ really shut her up. 

She’s pulling at her own panties, takes them off as well, and that in turn, shut him up, too.

Climbing back to bed, he kneels and pulls her up, manhandles her onto his lap and she likes that. Likes how easy he can maneuver her around.

Y/N hooks her arms around his neck and he kisses her deep and rough, while he strokes his dick along her slit. She tastes herself on his tongue, something she’s never tasted before.

He bites down on her bottom lips before he breaks the kiss to mumble something that sounds awfully like, “Fuck,”

“What?” She pants against his mouth.

“We shouldn’t,” He pecks her lips again, “I don’t have a condom. Never thought I’d need them.”

She chuckles, making him raise his eyebrow at her. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s okay, I have an IUD.”

Dean groans, kisses her again while he threads his cock up and down her slit, her cum slicking the way, “We don’t have to, you know that, right? I— I just— Fuck,”

She laughs into his mouth, “Dean, relax, we’re good.”

“Thank god,” He whispers, but he doesn’t push it in, instead he teases her some more, “What do you want? Tell me, baby.”

_ Baby. _

God, she loves hearing it out of his mouth.

She gets bold, swallows her shyness and smirks a little, “I want you to fuck me,”

Dean lets out a moan before he claims her mouth again and pushes in, she lowers herself a little too, meeting him halfway and fuck, he’s filling her so good, stretching her better than anyone ever could.

“Jesus, you’re so tight, fuck.” He claims her mouth while he helps her bounce on his lap, “Don’t think I’ll last long, you feel too good.” His hands finds the seam of her top, pulls it over her head before he unhooks her bra with capable fingers and she throws them all away somewhere.

Y/N hooks her arms back around his neck, pulls him closer as Dean buries his face in the cleft of her tits. He licks and sucks at her skin on his way to a nipple. Seals his lips around it and sucks at one before he lets it out with a pop, only to claim the other one. 

He then trails his mouth along her cleavage, while he fucks her faster, tongue licking up a trail to her throat before he sucks at her bottom lip. His wide tongue invades her mouth, mapping out the inside. 

She bounces now too, using her hips to grind down on him while he fucks up. 

“Baby, I’m close,” Dean nibbles at her chin before he moves, and suddenly, she finds herself flat on her back while he pushes her legs up by the back of her knees, almost folding her in half. 

He’s panting hard, “Touch yourself, can you do that for me, baby? Come with me, I want to feel you come on my cock.”

God, he talks dirty, it makes her light headed. She can see his whole body move, his skin damp, his muscle flexing. He looks fucking delicious.

Y/N wets her fingers with her saliva and places them on her clit, rubs along in wild and fast circles. It’s not long before she tenses, because he pushes at all the right buttons on the inside.

“I’m gonna come,” Dean’s squeezes his eyes shut while he tries not to lose it too early, “I wanna come inside of you so bad.”

She rubs at her clit harder, her other hand kneads at her tit, “You can, I want you to, please,”

Dean’s eyes fly open, and he frowns, but he still fucks her in a fast pace, “What?”

“Yeah,” She bites down on her own lips, her toes start to curl up, “Fuck, I’m coming again.”

He uses her bliss to drape himself over her, smashing his mouth against hers, kissing at her open mouth, and groans into it as he releases himself inside of her. She thought it’s a myth but she could feel his sticky cum coating the insides of her pussy.

Dean is still rocking into her after his high, sprays kisses all over her face, “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,”

She agrees. Not that she is perfect, more that  _ he _ is. She’s never had mind blowing sex before, not like this. How could she not? How could she stay with an asshole when there are people around who could make her feel wanted? Who could make her feel like she’s perfect? 

It was the best sex she’s ever had. And my god, she’s addicted already.

He kisses her forehead, her nose, chuckles lightly and then he manhandles her up into his lap and walks on his knees until they reach the edge of the bed. He then steps out of the bed, carries her into the bathroom while he’s still logged inside.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


After the shower, where he fucked her against the wall without even slipping out of her first, Dean dresses her into her sleep shirt and tucks her into bed. It’s the shirt he threw in her face a couple of nights ago. He then gets into fresh underwear himself and throws her a new pair of panties. 

They need to be dressed all the time, apparently. Dean doesn’t put on a shirt though, decides to stay in his pj pants.

She already thought that he’s going to sleep on the couch when she sees him walking out into the living room but Dean only returns with his gun and phone, places them on the nightstand and slips into bed next to her.

He spreads his arm, letting her climb in and then presses a kiss on her temple. “‘M sorry,”

She frowns, “For what?”

“Being unprofessional.”

“You aren’t.” She reassures him, “You’re still protecting me.”

“I do. ‘M not gonna stop.”

She smiles, nudges her face against his scruff, “That’s good.”

  
  
  


*

  
  


They get woken up by the sound of bullets banging against the outside wall of the cabin. A window smashed and then the bullets made their way inside. One by one. It’s not a machine gun, so at least there’s that.

“Y/N, bathroom! Now! Lock yourself in!” 


	8. CH.08

_ “Y/N, bathroom! Now! Lock yourself in!”  _

Dean jumps out of bed, grabs his gun and throws his phone towards her. She takes the phone, holds on to it tight.

“Go, go, go! If I don’t return, call the police!”

With that, Dean runs out of the room, and she dashes behind him. Dean doesn’t go to the front door though, instead he runs to the kitchen. The cabin has only one door as far as she can remember but she also remembers seeing a trap door on the ground in the kitchen. She saw it many times, always wanted to ask Dean what’s that about, wanted to tease him, ask him if it leads to some crazy sex dungeon. The right time for a morbid joke never came because of the kidnapping news and then she was seriously afraid that there was indeed a fucking crazy sex dungeon down there. 

Y/N’s about to open the bathroom door and go in when another window smashed and she staggers a little, feeling a burning pain on her calf. She isn’t stopping though, yanks the bathroom door open and goes in. She hears a bullet hitting the bathroom door before she closes it. She locks it quickly as soon as she’s in.

The room is pitch black and although she can’t see a damn thing, she doesn’t turn on the light switch, she likes to keep it that way. Who knows what would happen if the light would reveal her hideout. She could never forgive herself for being so careless. Her calf stings a little but she didn’t dare look. Instead she sits in a corner, pulls her knees up to her chest, and waits. 

Her fingers thumbs over Dean’s phone to look at the clock. It’s 3.07am. How long should she wait until she can call the police? Dean hasn’t told her. Is there a handbook to go by? One that says:  _ Have you been fake-kidnapped and now someone tries to kill you and your bodyguard rushes out to catch that fucker and tells you that you should call the police? If you’re in that situation, please wait xxx minutes before calling the police. _

Ugh.

This is just so fucking surreal. 

She hopes Dean’s okay? Who knows how many there are of them and there’s only one of him! And besides, she doesn’t even know where they are, wouldn’t be able to tell the police their coordinates. Dean just told her once that if she should call the police, she should hit the home button three times before making a call so they would be able to track the phone.

After a long while, she thumbs over his phone again, sees that it’s 3.12am.

It has only been five fucking minutes but it feels like a fucking lifetime.

Y/N groans out and places her forehead on her knees. 

Suddenly she feels like it gets harder for her to breathe. There’s an unsettling inside of her stomach, and her heart begins to thumb out of her chest. She feels hot, her mouth feels awfully dry and she has troubles swallowing. 

_ Oh my god. _

She’s going to die. Maybe Dean’s already dead! Dead, because he’s protecting her and it’s all her fault!

Her feelings overwhelm her and she starts to cry silently. She’s full on sobbing when she hears footsteps on the outside. It’s only faint because the bathroom is well isolated.

She stops crying immediately, tries to be quiet and she listens to the dull steps walking around the cabin.

There’s rattling on the doorknob and she can’t do anything else than stare towards the source of the sound. 

“Y/N, open up! It’s me.”

_ Oh, thank god.  _

She scrambles to the door and unlocks it, but she crawls back right after, fearing that it might not be Dean after all. Or worse, what if the shooter is holding him at gunpoint? She probably just really made the dumbest of moves by opening up for the shooter.

Someone comes in, locks the door behind them and switches on the light. She breathes relief when she notices the presence of just one other person. 

The sudden brightness of the room blinds her and she squints her eyes close before blinking them open again to see Dean. 

Oh god, it’s him. His face has deep creases, sweat beads on his forehead.

“You okay?” Dean kneels in front of her.

Her breathing is still ragged, and her heart hasn’t stopped thumping. She shakes her head, unable to say anything. She tries, though. Tries to open up her mouth and to bring fucking  _ something _ past her lips, but she couldn’t. Her hands go up and she scrambles at Dean’s bare chest before she breaks down again. 

“Shit, Y/N,” Dean whispers, sits himself down, leans his back against the tile wall, and pulls her into his lap, “You’re having a panic attack. Breathe, just breathe. I’m here now.” He holds her close to his chest, strokes her head, her back and she lets his heartbeat lull her to safety, “Breathe with me, can you do that, huh?”

Still unable to answer, she nods. Dean’s taking deep breaths, his chest heaving visibly and she tries to do the same. Soon, their breathing sync, and after a while her breathing begins to steady, her heart rate begins to slow down, but she’s still crying. 

She sniffs before she looks up to him. 

Dean places a kiss on her forehead, “You okay?”

She nods and tries to get off his lap but he holds her close. Her hands brushes away her tears and Dean’s hand comes up too, thumbing at her cheeks when he looks her in her eyes. 

He turns his head down after a while, notices the blood on the bathroom floor, “Shit, you’re bleeding!”

Before she could see it for herself, Dean scoops her up and sits her on the closed toilet lid to inspect her calf. 

“Fuck,” Dean curses, “It only grazed you. Thank god,” 

Dean extends his hand to retrieve the first aid kit from out of the sink cupboard next to him, and begins to clean the wound.

She squints her eyes at the sting of the spray of disinfectant. 

“Shhhh,” Dean hushes, “I’m almost done.”

While she watches him work on her calf, she thinks about what just happened. She didn’t ask Dean him yet, and was not able to talk until now. So she decides to ask him, “Did you see who it was?”

“No, I didn’t. He wore a mask.” He answers short, mind still focusing on her wound.

“But did you get him? Should we call the police?”

Dean tenses visibly, and she wonders if she said something wrong?

“I almost got him, we wrestled but then he got away, ran into the forest. I chased him but the forest is thick and I fucking lost him.” His hand tightens around her calf and she senses that the tension and the grumpiness comes from the shooter getting away.

“But what does this mean? Someone put a hitman on us?”

He starts to place things back into the first aid kit and closed the lid loudly with a sigh, “I don’t fucking know, honestly. One moment I’m supposed to be protecting you and the next I get shot at.” 

Dean’s angry, she can tell but she can also tell that he’s trying his damn best not to completely let the anger eat him up and stay calm. She guesses that it’s maybe because he needs to keep  _ her _ calm. 

“I’m sorry,” She lowers her head, tries to avoid looking at Dean, “It’s all because of me.”

“Hey,” His voice is deep and loud, it makes all the hair on her back stand up. He places his hand on the back of her neck, draws her close while he presses his forehead on hers, “None of this is your fault, okay? I won’t let you think that.” He looks at her intensely, trying to read her, “Understand?” 

Dean waits until she nods and with a kiss to her forehead, he stands back up, washing the blood from his hands and she watches him. Watches the tense in his face, sees that he’s biting at the inside of his cheeks before he clenches his jaw. 

“What is it?” She asks him, knowing that there’s something that’s bothering him. 

“I don’t know,” Dean finishes washing his hand and then he splashes some cold water into his face before drying it off with a cloth, “It seems weird to me that there’s a hitman out for us when we’re two States from where the threats are coming from. I know my job, I know it well. A hit man who dares to cross Statelines is hard to get and they don’t come cheap.”

She frowns, “What are you trying to say?”

“Why do they want to hurt you when they didn’t even get to kidnap you? Why would they go out of their way and hire a hitman and pay so much money? It makes fucking zero sense!”

Oh.

Dean’s right, but still.

“Maybe they just want to kill you and kidnap me?” She says, trying to bring some sense into it.

He scoffs, “But then again, why would they go through all the trouble without being super sure that there’s a reward in the end? If you’re dead they won’t get anything. Unless,”

Dean opens his mouth to say something more but then he closes it again, shaking his head.

Y/N stands up now, tries to walk to him in the tiny space. She grits her teeth at the momentarily pain, which prompts Dean to rush to her and places a hand on her hips to help her steady herself.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” She hisses, “Unless what?” It’s the question she wants answered.

“Forget it,” Dean mumbles, but he doesn’t look her in the eye. 

“I won’t? What is it, tell me!”

“Fine!” Dean growls, “What if Chuck’s behind all this? What if he’s the one who wants you dead?”

She frowns, the crease between her eyebrows and forehead deepens, “No.”

Dean doesn’t say a thing, instead he looks at her and raises one eyebrow.

“No, Dean, Chuck wouldn’t do that. He said he doesn’t love me anymore, yes, but he also said that he still cares about me.” 

Chuck would never. Or would he? She honestly doesn’t know.

“And you believe him?”

“I don’t know!”

Dean hits his fist against the door, making her jump and then he gets loud, “It’s just seems fucking convenience that he shows up here and after he leaves, we get fucking shot at! We’ve been so fucking careful! Nobody knew that you’re here except for him!”

“I don’t fucking know alright? I don’t know anything anymore!”

When she thinks about it, Dean’s explanation makes perfect sense. But also she doesn’t want him to be right either.

What does Chuck have to gain from her death? Why would he have hired Dean if he wanted her dead? He had many chances doing that himself. But also, Chuck wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty.

“Why did Chuck hire you when he wanted me dead?” She mutters.

“I don’t know,” Dean sits down on the toilet lid and she takes a step closer, is limping a little, which again, prompts Dean to hold out his hand to steady her. 

She stands between his open thighs, places her hands on his shoulders, waves one of them around his neck and Dean wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer before he looks up at her with worry in his eyes, his chin resting on her stomach, “I don’t know, maybe he just wants to keep up the facade of a loving husband. He’s all over the news, he has to make people believe that he tries everything to find you.”

What Dean just said makes sense. And she hates that maybe he’s right. But she refuses to believe that Chuck’s all bad. 

Instead of saying anything more to that, she asks him, “What should we do now?”

“We pack, I’ll bring you somewhere safe.”

“Will you tell Chuck?”

“Not yet.” He says and he stands up, “I don’t trust him.”

Dean walks out first, gun drawn, and she waits. Only walking out when he calls for her that it’s secure. 

They pack their things in a hurry, and in under ten minutes, she finds herself on Dean’s motorcycle, clinging onto his waist, letting him carry her into the night. 

  
  



	9. CH.09

Dean stops to pump gas after approximately an hour — she wouldn’t know exactly, time is a fucking construct nowadays — and goes into the store while she waits by the motorcycle. Y/N leaves her helmet on, just to be extra safe.

He comes out after a couple of minutes, and only then does she dare take her helmet off. She places it on the seat. 

Dean still looks at her like she’s something fragile, which, given the circumstances, she maybe is. He hands her a chocolate bar. It’s dark chocolate, not really her favorite.

“Eat it. It’ll help calm you down.”

She can’t help but smirk at that, thinks it’s cute how he cares, but then realizes that he’s only doing his job. Which is her. And then she thought that Dean really did her too, she grins a little because she thinks she’s funny, which is really not the right time to be right now.

Y/N’s his job. Period. Because that’s what she is to him, isn’t she? Only a job and an added burden with them getting shot at. 

Looking down, she nods and unwraps the chocolate, but before she can take a bite out of it, Dean pushes his fingers below her chin, tilts her head up to look at him, “Hey, everything alright?”

How can she tell him that everything’s not al-fucking-right? That her life’s a fucking mess and that she’s slowly but surely falling for someone who only sees her as a job? How can she tell that she’s scared shitless and that she won’t ever be able to fall asleep again without hearing bullets flying against the wall and into her home?

Instead of telling him all that, though, she nods, “Yeah, just never been in a shootout before.”

“It’s been a while for me either,” He huffs out a tired chuckle. 

That’s right. He’s been deployed, has probably had a fair share of being shot at. She never asked him what he did, not that she doesn’t want to. It’s more that it doesn’t really matter to her who he was or what he did. What matters is that he’s here when she needs him the most.

There are scars, though. She’s seen them, even if the light was dim. She also felt them underneath the pad of her fingers.

Dean sighs before his hand comes up and he lets his thumb brush over her chin, thumbs at the corner of her lips and the crease between his eyebrows grow. Apparently, she’s a terrible liar.

He leans closer and speaks in his soothing husky voice, “I got you, okay? I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

She nods teary eyed, “Promise?” She wants to believe him. 

Dean smiles. It’s wide and white, there are crinkles around his eyes, “Cross my heart.”

Leaning down, he steals a kiss, his lips are warm and soothing. 

He waits for her to finish the chocolate bar so they can drive to wherever he takes her. She doesn’t really ask him anymore where they’re going, because she had made the choice and at this point, she’d follow him anywhere.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


After about what felt like another hour's drive, they arrived at another safe house, hidden by another forest. The sun’s slowly coming up, there’s a hazy glow and the ground condenses, little patches of fog rise up.

If it wasn’t for her being on the run, she'd say that it’s beautiful here, that it’s picturesque and maybe if there are other circumstances surrounding her being here, she might even be able to enjoy it. But she swears, she’s already a little sick of the damn trees. 

Dean halts his bike and waits for her to get off before he gets off it himself, and walks around to take the bags, places them on the ground. He then wordlessly wheels his bike behind the cabin.

She hears plastic, some leaves rattling. Didn’t dare to go look or follow him. She’s just too tired too and she stands there, waiting for him with her arms wrapped around herself. The mornings are cool and the effect of too little sleep makes her shiver to her bones.

About five minutes later — could be longer too, she wouldn’t know — Dean comes back, rubbing and brushing his hands against each other, a satisfying smirk decorating his face.

He comes to stand before her, towering over her, as he rubs at her arms and pulls her into a warm embrace, “You okay?”

She manages to nod, her teeth are already chattering together.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside before you freeze to death,” Dean places his warm lips on her forehead, before he picks up the bags from the ground, takes her hand to walk to the front of the cabin.

On the porch, Dean walks to the far right side, kneels down and opens a little trap door to take out a box. Inside of the box, he finds keys to the cabin.

They step inside and she takes in her surroundings. Everything looks almost the same as the previous cabin, only a little more modern, cozier, too. The sofa is bigger, the TV is the same as in the previous cabin, though.

“You want anything to drink? Or food?” His voice jerks her back to reality. 

“No,” She says warily, “Thanks, I’m good.”

“The bedroom’s over there,” Dean jerks his head to the adjacent room while he walks into the kitchen to drop off things he bought at the store, “Go to bed, get some rest.”

She nods and makes her way to the bedroom with her backpack in hand. The bed’s bigger here. Could easily fit the both of them without her having to move too much out of the way. Not that she thinks he’s going to stay in the bedroom with her, though. She doesn’t really know where they stand after last night. Didn’t dare to ask because there are more important things right now. For example trying not to get killed.

Dropping her backpack into the closet, she takes off her jacket and shimmies out of her pants, climbs into bed, and covers herself with the blanket. She lies there on her side. Exhausted but not tired enough to fall asleep yet. 

Dean walks in after a while, a mug of coffee in his hand. He slowly moves over, as if he wants to see if she’s sleeping yet and when he sees that she isn’t, he sits on the bed, on the side where she’s curled up, and places the mug on the bedside table. 

“I don’t want coffee, thank you.” She mumbles.

“Who said it was for you?” He chuckles while his hand comes up to stroke at her head, tucking a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, “You should try to get some sleep, I’ll be in the living room, doing some paperwork.”

Y/N looks at him, her eyelids feel heavy, “Can you stay close?” She didn’t want to come across as needy but it’s hard because right now, that’s all she is. She wants him close, wants to know that he’s here to protect her.

“Of course,” There’s a warm smile on his face. It came out too quick. Like he didn’t even need to think about it at all, “I’ll just get my laptop.”

Dean takes the mug and walks out, only to return with the laptop in his other hand. He takes off his shoes and gets into bed, too, sits with his back to the headboard and she turns herself the other way, curls up next to him. 

He strokes her hair back, “Sleep, okay?”

She nods, her eyes are already closing.

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  


Y/N wakes to something heavy draped over her body. 

The sun is bright in the sky, she guesses that it’s mid afternoon. Not that the time of day matters, since recently, one day blends into another fucked up day.

She blinks the sleep out of her eyes before she looks down on herself, sees the source of the thing that crushes her.

The heavy thing is Dean’s arm. 

He’s sleeping soundly, one hand protectively draped over her. She stirs a little and that was already enough to wake him. God, he’s such a light sleeper. So jumpy all the time.

Dean lifts his head alarmed and looks around, but soon lets it fall back onto the pillow and closes his eyes again when he sees that it’s her.

“I thought you were going to be working?” She says teasingly.

He squints one eye open, his voice is raspy and full of sleep when he speaks, “You looked so peaceful, and then you started to talk in your sleep.”

“I did?” Her cheeks feel warm, and she’s a little embarrassed.

“Yeah, you trashed around and called out my name. I had to hold you down and then I couldn’t resist falling asleep either.”

Y/N blushes. She called out his name? She wishes the bed would open up and swallow her whole.

Dean hand goes under the blanket, finds her waist, and pulls her closer into him. He kisses her forehead, “No matter how hard I try, I can’t resist you. No matter how professional I try to keep things between us, I fail, because one look at you and my walls come crashing down.”

Her heart beats ridiculously fast upon hearing him say those words. Just when she opens her mouth to say something. Opens them up to tell him that it’s okay, that she welcomes it when he isn’t going all bodyguard on her. That she feels the same and wouldn’t want him to go back to being professional— his phone rings.

He tilts his body, reaches for it blindly, his hands search on the nightstand and when he finds it and looks at the caller ID, he frowns a little. Dean holds it out, shows it to her.

Chuck.

Dean picks up and puts Chuck on speaker. She knows that it’s also his way of reassuring her that he isn’t behind any of Chuck’s plans. 

“Hello?” Dean’s voice is still raspy and he clears his throat.

“Mr. Winchester, I didn’t get a text this morning and am worried!”

Chuck sounds weird, his voice is a little higher than usual. But she can’t miss the annoyance in it.

Dean places the phone between them, turns to brace himself on his elbow, “Yeah, uh, I’m sorry, sir. Everything’s fine. We are alright. I was out at the store because we were running out of food.”

There’s a long awkward pause until Chuck talks again, “Okay,” 

“I don’t have to remind you that you should be careful, do I?”

“No, sir.”

She can see the tense in Dean’s shoulder. And really, who is he to tell Dean how to act? Chuck crosses the line but that’s so typical. 

“Good,”

“Do you have any news for us?” Dean asks and looks at her. 

“News? Uh.. no, there’s still none. You stay put.”

“Of course,”

“Report back to me, Mr. Winchester.”

Chuck hangs up before Dean could say anything. And he didn’t ask about her once. 

“Wow,” She huffs out hot air, “Do you think he knows?”

Dean rolls on his stomach towards her, pushes himself up on his elbows. He looks at her and chuckles, “You mean about us?”

_ Us.  _

She tries not to get too excited at the mention.

Y/N groans and rolls her eyes, “Duh,”

“No, and he doesn’t seem to care about you one bit anyway,” Dean says and she knows that he’s right.

Dean gnaws on his bottom lip, his face deep in thoughts. He’s thinking of something and she thinks she knows what bothers him.

“You think he knows about the shooting,” She states as a matter of fact.

He breathes out, pinches at the bridge of his nose, “There’s something fishy about it, yeah.” He leans down, kisses her gently, “And I absolutely hate how he treats you.”

Before she can say anything, Dean pushes himself up on his knees, runs a hand through his hair, “I mean, he usually doesn’t even care if I miss on some texts. Why care now? He also never calls. Good thing he doesn’t know that we changed our house yet. I’d like to keep it a secret for a little while longer.”

Getting off the bed, he reaches under the blanket, and searches for her legs. When he finds them, he pulls at them with one swift motion, making her shift down until her feet are dangling off the edge.

He inspects her calf, “We need to change the bandage.” And then with the next breath he says, “Come on, let's fix you up and find something to eat before I eat you up.”

Well, she can’t say that she would mind if he does.


	10. CH.10

It’s the third day that they’re in the new cabin and their daily schedule changed completely.

Mostly, they’ll get up around noon and stay up until late in the night. It’s easier for Dean to bring her along if he has to go into town. Easier to blend into the night without people recognizing her. 

Not that they’ve been out and about a lot, but whenever he needs to, it’s better that way.

Dean would set the alarm in the mornings to send Chuck a text message on time so that Chuck won’t have to call in again. According to Chuck's answers though, it’s not like he cares. One time, Chuck answered the next morning at four, and it made her wonder if he’s been up til then or if he’s already up for the day. Not that she should care anymore either. 

Y/N can feel that Dean hates Chuck. He doesn’t even need to say it, she just knows, because Dean would scoff every time he gets a text from Chuck and his mood changes for a minute or two. Until he realizes that she’s around either, and then he would slip back into being his grumpy self, turns his anger inwards and not outwards towards her. 

It’s going to eat him up if he’s not careful.

They didn’t have sex again either. But they kiss and when it gets heavier, Dean always breaks away. She doesn’t know if it’s because he still thinks that he has to be professional with her when he doesn’t really need to anymore.

But he did move into the bedroom right from the start. Although under the false pretense that it’s easier to keep her safe when he’s in the same room. She just smirked at that and she swears she did see him blush.

So today, she gets up and after her shower, changes into some shorts when Dean walks in after he showered and she’s standing there naked.

His eyes widen and his lips are pressed into a thin line. There’s a vein standing out on his neck. It pulsates the longer she looks at it. He doesn’t say anything but he frowns when he sees her getting into the shorts without wearing any underwear, “I know it’s probably not my place to ask, but why aren’t you wearing any panties?”

_ Uh-oh. _

Does she want to tell him that she’s been changing her panties more often, up to three times a day, because she’s wet all the time lately?

Nope.

“I don’t have any clean ones left,” She shrugs and finishes buttoning her pants up before she pulls a shirt over her head. She doesn't wear a bra either.

Dean groans and rolls his eyes, “Jesus, you are testing my patience.”

She laughs and walks past him but he holds her back, pulls her into a kiss, while he pinches at one of her nipples that pokes through the shirt, making her yelp up. He presses his damp body to hers, and she couldn’t miss the bulge in his underwear.

“Tonight, we’ll go to the laundromat.” He whispers into her ear and with a soft spank on her ass, he lets her walk out of the room. 

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  


It’s past 3am when they arrive at the laundromat that apparently opens twenty-three hours a day — at least that’s what it says on the sign. 

It looks kind of grim inside.

Dean carries their bags with their dirty clothes in and to the back, and she follows wordlessly.

The back of the laundromat is well shielded from the front of the store by big washing machines. Nobody could see them from the outside and the bell on the door goes off when someone comes in. She knows now why he has chosen this laundromat. They can never be careful enough. 

He jingles with the coins in his palms when he walks over to the vending machine where there are detergents, while he asks her which ones she’d prefer, but she doesn’t really know any of it because she hasn’t been doing her own laundry in years, so she let him choose for her.

Dean settles for something organic because apparently her skin’s delicate.

It’s the constant dropping of these hints that makes her blush and he fucking knows it. Smirks to himself, when he sees the flush on her face.

She’s never been at a laundromat before so Dean has to tell her what to do. They decide to wash their things together. The only thing they will do is separating the whites and start their own machine for that one.

When everything’s in the machines, Dean turns to her, “Everything in there that needs washing?”

Looking down on herself, she decides to drop her pants. 

His eyes widen when he watches her shimmy out of it and throw it into the waiting machine.

“How are you going to sit on the chair and wait now?” Dean asks with amusement in his voice when he turns the machine on and she pulls at Dean’s oversized shirt that she’s wearing. It’s one of his shirts he once told her to wear and she uses it as a sleeping shirt now. It’s actually long enough and it goes way over her ass so sitting on any chairs should be okay.

She slums provocatively into a chair, the seam of his shirt pulled as far down as it could go, just to prove a point, which makes him grin.

Dean walks over to where a stack of magazines are laying around, and takes a couple, drops it on the chair to her right and sits down in the chair on her left. They’re both well shielded by the machines.

“How long does it take?” She asks him after about two minutes. She doesn’t like to read magazines and wishes she had a phone to pass the time like Dean has.

“About thirty minutes,”

“That’s so long!” She exhales, slumps further into her chair and Dean chuckles.

He pockets his phone back into his pants, “You’re very impatient, you know that? It’s driving me nuts.”

Y/N stands up, paces around to prove her point that she’s bored but Dean reaches out a hand for her, pulls her down, making her stumble into his lap. 

“Christ, Y/N! Don’t walk around, someone could see you!” He hisses grumpily.

She sits on one of his thighs, feet dangle in between both his legs, his hand on her lower back while one strokes at her bare thigh.

“‘M sorry,” She mumbles and his hand travels up her back, resting at the back of her neck before he pulls her in for a kiss.

Dean pulls away and stares up at her, “It’s okay,” He says, “It would just make my job so much easier if you’d remember.”

Her heart sinks every time he mentions that she’s his job. Which is stupid and childish of her and she really shouldn’t be, because he’s right.

“I forgot that I’m your job. Sorry.”

He notices the change in her demeanor and places his hand beneath her chin, making her look at him, “Stop that, you know what I mean.”

“Yes, that I’m just a job to you,” She pouts and Dean’s thumb comes up to paint along her lips.

“You are, but also you’re not.”

She raises her eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“The truth is, your asshole husband hasn’t paid me after someone tried to kill us. I usually get paid daily. So, really, what I was doing for the last three days is purely on my own will.”

“You still report to him.”

“Yeah, but because I want him to think that we’re still on his side. Something about our whole situation rubs me the wrong way.”

“But we could just go forward with the things we know?”

“No,” Dean speaks in his final voice, “He wants to play dirty, he can have it.” He manhandles her on top of him so that she now straddles his crotch, her knees on either side of his thighs, and she can feel something swelling in his pants. 

“But why? Why don’t you just walk away?” She’s baffled at his revelation. Baffled that he decided to stay and help her when he could have easily walked away.

He cradles her face in between his big palms, “Baby, you just don’t see it do you?”

_ Baby. _

Her heart flutters.

Y/N bites down on her lips, shakes her head.

“I’m so fucking gone on you,” He whispers, his hands drawing her in for a kiss, his tongue teasing at her bottom lip, until she lets him in. 

Dean's big palms roam her back, stroking downwards until he grips her hips, helping her grind on him. The kiss grows hotter, heavier, his tongue mapping out the inside of her mouth and she loves that, loves how hungry they get for each other, loves how his kisses tingles her in all the right places. She’s soaking wet and he must be feeling it too.

“Dean,” His name left her mouth in a whimper when he bites and sucks down her throat.

“We shouldn’t, we’re in public,” He mumbles against her skin but he doesn’t stop. It’s as if he’s not able to — like she isn’t either.

“Please,” Her hands finds his hair, nails digging into his scalp while he sucks at her pulse point.

He licks a broad stripe up her chin, kisses her again wet and sloppy, bites on her bottom lip, “Fuck,” His fingers gripping her hips so tight she’s sure that he’ll leave bruises.

She works her mouth along his scruff and across his cheeks, nibbles at his ear while her hands travel downwards. Sitting back a little, she makes more room for herself, and her fingers deftly work on his belt, “Please?”

Sucking on his earlobe, Dean lets out a moan before he tilts his head to her, face craning for her lips, “Okay, fuck— okay,”

Y/N grins into the kiss and her fingers lowering his zipper, and pulls his jeans down a little. She pauses and frowns but the frown turns quickly into a mischievous grin, “No underwear?”

Dean chuckles with a shrug, “It’s laundry day.”

She pulls the jeans down only enough to have access to his cock and balls, and wraps her hands around it, jerking him off while she kisses him, and he can’t help but to buckle up into her fist.

“That’s it,” He says, watching her spit on it to be able to massage him better, “Make it nice and wet, baby.”

God, the way he talks. She could come from that alone.

“Twist your grip at the tip,” Dean whispers as he watches her jerk him. He probably knows that her last sexual experience was too long ago but he doesn’t say anything mean, instead he helps her and tells her what he likes. She likes for him to teach her, would love for him to teach her even more things.

Y/N gets bolder and lays his cock onto his stomach, lifting herself up a little and rubs her wet cunt along it, lips parting so he could rub at her swollen and sensitive nub. Dean bunches up her shirt to be able to see better. 

“Just like that,” His voice is raspy, his gaze on her pussy, watching her lips part and rock against his shaft, watching her slicking it up with her juice. Dean soon loses his cool, “Can you sit on it— I— fuck,”

His hands go up to squeeze at her tits before he loops the seam of the shirt through its neckline. She’s exposed to him from her tummy downwards.

Her hands braces on his shoulder and she lifts herself up while Dean grabs his cock by the base and then he helps her impale herself on it with one hand around her hips.

Y/N groans out at the feeling of him filling her and Dean throws his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

Slowly, she works him in. Going down an inch and back a half. She lets his thick cock stretch her tight pussy on her way down, until she sits on him, her cunt presses against his skin. 

“Oh my god,” She moans out, her eyelid starts to flutter, “I’m so full.”

Dean has to chuckle, pulls her face down to kiss her while she starts to move above him. He breaks the kiss to suck down her throat, “So good,” His breathing is ragged, “Jesus, baby, you feel so good around my cock.”

She’s rocks above him, doesn’t dare to bounce too hard because they’re in public after all. She almost forgot until the machines started to beep. 

At one point, she switches to grinding because it feels so good to feel him deep inside of her while her clit rubs against his groin. 

He reaches his hand below her shirt, pinches and twists at her nipples, making her moan out loud to which he has to hush her by shoving his thumb into her mouth. She sucks at it and Dean lets out a groan of approval. 

Soon he replaces his thumb with two of his fingers and she sucks before taking his finger deeper, until she gags a little, “Fuck, I would love to feel your mouth around my cock, baby,”

“Mmh,” She moans, agreeing with him, because oh god, she wants that too. 

“Such a good girl, taking my fingers and cock like a good fucking girl,” His voice a little strained, “You’re close, ain’tcha? Fuck—”

Yes, she is so close, and her pussy clenches even more when she hears the good girl comment. He knows just how to push the right buttons.

“Come for me, baby,” He helps her guide on his cock, hands firmly placed on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, “Did he ever make you come on his cock alone, huh?”

She closes her eyes, drags her teeth across her bottom lip while her grip tightens around Dean’s neck, “N— no,”

It’s true. Sex was never like this. She never thought sex could feel so good. How could she not know that sex like this exists?

Y/N opens her eyes to see Dean smirking at her, but his eyes stay dark and hungry. 

He pulls her down, kisses her deep and rough, “Ride me, use me to come, baby. You’re doing so good, feels so fucking perfect,”

Her legs start to tremble and then it happens. A wave of pleasure crashes around her, making her slump down and she buries her face in the crook of his neck. She breathes heavily, takes in the smell of him. It’s intoxicating.

Dean follows her over the edge right after, kisses the side of her face, sucks at her skin as he moans softly into her ear. 

“Oh my god, I just came without even touching myself,” She chuckles, feels Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest, and she pushes herself up to look at him. 

He’s grinning, kisses her between her eyebrows, pecks her nose, the corner of her lips, “I think I passed out for a minute there,”

She giggles at that and pecks him back on his nose before she’s getting off of him but Dean holds her back, his grip tight around her waist.

“No, stay. A little longer?”

“Okay,” She says and she leans back forward, buries her face in his neck while he strokes her back. 

It’s a long while until Dean speaks, his voice deep, it rumbles in her chest, “I promise, alright? Nothing bad’s gonna happen to you when I’m around.”

Y/N knows that already. Of course she does. She doesn’t know why she starts to cry, though.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


They stayed in the laundromat longer than they thought they would because after their clothes were done, they had to wash the clothes where they just fucked in. And while they waited, they almost fucked again. Dean really had to walk it out as not to fuck her on top of the washing machine. 

She had to laugh at him, although she was not opposed to the idea of feeling vibrations underneath her when he fucks into her deep and hard. 

Before the laundromat closes for the hour that they need to clean the place, they are out and on Dean’s bike again, with her clinging to him as if he’s the only thing that keeps her alive. 

And she thinks that maybe—

—maybe he is.


	11. CH.11

The next day, Y/N wakes up with Dean spooning her from behind. He’s most likely been up for a while already, because she can smell his minty breath, and there’s also a faint smell of coffee in the air.

He must have been up since he texted Chuck, she realizes. 

Chuck’s timeline is coming up. It’s only two days left until the apparent kidnapper is going to kill her when they don’t get the $5 million in ransom money and they both wonder about Chuck’s next move. Of course they don’t know a damn thing. Right now, Chuck doesn’t even know where they are and he hasn’t gotten suspicious yet. What does that really say about her fucked up relationship with her husband. 

Dean drapes his arm around her body, moves closer, his chest flush against her back and she can feel something hard poking at her. It’s definitely not his phone. 

He brushes her hair out of the way, leaves a soft kiss on her skin and nudges his nose against the back of her neck. She feels goosebumps all over her body.

It’s a wonderful way to wake up. She can definitely get used to it. She just wishes the circumstances were a little different.

Dean kisses along her shoulder, the skin that isn’t covered by the wide neckline of his shirt. He leaves his lips there, and mumbles, “Are you going to go back to him?”

It took her a couple of seconds to realize who he meant by  _ him _ .

She places her hand on his that’s strokes along her stomach, guides his hand further up, until his big palm cups her bare tit. His thumb brushes against her nipple and slowly, they start to peak. He rolls it between his thumb and forefinger, making her arch her back, driving her ass back against his bulge and he coaxes a moan out of her mouth.

“No,” She whispers, “I won’t.”

Dean goes on to kiss the back of her ear and trails his tongue down, seals his lips around her pulse point, sucks it in, “Good,” His hands palms down her body, fingers dipping into her panties, “I’d hate that.”

He’s blunt, says what’s on his mind, and she kind of admires that.

“Yeah?” She huffs out, chuckles a little but she almost chokes on her own saliva when Dean’s hand is deep inside her panties, parting her lips with his ring and index finger to toy at the hood of her clit with his middle finger. 

“Yeah,” He whispers darkly into her ear, the rumble of his voice vibrating in his chest, travels over to her back.

“How much would you hate it?” She teases him, moving her hips back against his bulge some more.

“Super much,” 

Just when she wants to say more, he sinks two fingers into her pussy, making her throw her head back and moan out loud. 

“So goddamn tight,” Dean’s breathing picks up and he noses behind her ear, speaks in a deep whispering tone, “Just fucked you a couple of hours ago, filled you up and you’re still so fucking tight.”

He moves his fingers and she circles her hips, fucking herself on them. 

Dean chuckles when he feels how desperate she is, but instead of letting her fuck herself on his fingers, he takes them out and she whimpers at the loss, but he hooks his fingers in her panties, pulls them down far enough so she can take her legs out of it. 

When she settles back again, Dean has already lowered his pj pants and is holding his hard dick in his hands. She arches her back, sticks her ass out a little, giving him better access and he rubs the head of his thick cock through her slick.

“Dean, please,” She’s practically begging now, wriggles with her ass, pressing it into him.

He lets out a dark chuckle, “So needy,” 

Dean thrusts forward, breaching her hole and pushes himself deeper, his hands on her hips, his mouth sucking at her shoulder to muffle his moans. There’s a throaty sound, logged deep in his chest.

“I could live in you,” He whispers, his hips moving as he fucks her deep and slow, his hand goes between her legs, flickers his fingers against her clit. 

Y/N moans out his name when he makes her come and he groans out at the tight squeeze.

“Such a good girl when you come on my cock, baby,”

God, he whispers things that bring her right to the edge.

She’s so lost in the fucking that she almost didn’t hear the phone ringing.

Dean stops fucking her for a moment, twisting his upper body and reaches out for the phone on his night stand. He doesn’t pick up, instead he wraps his arms back around her, keeps on fucking her deep and kissing the nape of her neck.

“It’s your dick husband,” He whispers, rocking into her just a fraction faster but still as deep, “Should I pick up, huh?”

“N— no,” She manages to choke out.

He chuckles, his scruff rubbing at her exposed skin, “Maybe I should let you pick up,” He rocks his hips in a circle with his dick deep inside, and it hits all the right spots, “You can tell him that I’m balls deep inside of you, that I fucked you so good last night you came from my cock alone,”

“Dean,” Her hand flies back, finds his scruff and trails them up and into his hair, he kisses her upper arm, her shoulder while his one hand toys with her clit.

“You can tell him that you love it when I fuck you deep, that my cock stretches you wide, that you love it when I come inside. Isn’t that so?”

“Fuck,” She breathes out. 

Of course it is.

She can come from his talking alone, she swears. She’s close again.

“Tell him that I made you come more than he ever had. Because it’s true, ain’t it?”

“Y— yes,” Her pussy flutters when his thumb flickers against the hood of her clit.

“And you can tell him that you’re not coming back,” He picks up his speed, fucks into her harder, a little rougher, “Because you’re mine now, baby, ain’t you? Your pussy’s mine. You’re mine. Tell me that you are. Promise me you’re not going back to him,”

She comes hard, her legs shaking, her pussy convulsing, squeezing him good and Dean comes too, buries his face between her shoulder and neck, groans into it while he pulls her tight against him.

Dean slips out of her with a squelching sound after a while, which makes her cringe. She absolutely hates when he takes it out, it always makes her feel so empty. He tucks himself into his pants, lifts himself up and straddles her, his weight supported by his hand on either side of her face. 

He looks at her with darkened pupils, “‘M sorry if I was out of line,” He lowers his face, kisses her forehead, “It’s not my right to want to hear it from you. You make your own decisions and if it’s not me, I hope it’s someone who appreciates you, because you deserve better. Promise me though,” His voice gets softer, “Promise me that you won’t go back to him.”

Y/N has tears in her eyes. Of course it’s him. She can’t for the life of her imagine someone else. But she can’t say it. Not yet. She’s too confused, too ashamed by what she’s done, even though Chuck’s been doing it for so long already. So instead of telling him this, she smiles through the tears and whispers, “Cross my heart.”

That’s enough for Dean. Enough to make him mirror her smile, and kiss her. Before the kiss could get too heated, Dean pulls back, pecks her nose before he pushes himself off the bed. 

She watches him sit down on the edge of the bed, taking his phone to call Chuck back.

Dean puts him on speaker so she could listen in.

“Mr. Winchester, I sent someone around this morning to check up on you, but nobody was around.”

Dean rubs a hand over his face, “Uh, yeah, we moved, sir. It didn’t seem safe enough anymore.”

“I don’t appreciate you keeping me in the dark.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Dean says and watches as she gets out of bed and pulls her shirt over her head. She walks to stand before him, naked. 

“So, in two days our kidnapping story will run out of time.”

Dean’s staring at her thighs as she shows him how his cum drips down her legs. He clears his throat audibly before he speaks, “What’s the next move?” His hand reaches out for her, pulls her into his lap, and he wraps his arm around her, holding her close. She can feel his hard bulge and she wonders how he does it. He just fucked her not five minutes ago.

“We wait it out.”

He nuzzles his nose against her cheek, “Yeah, I don’t think it’s safe to bring her back yet, sir.”

“That’s not for you to decide, Mr. Winchester.” Chuck sounds cold on the other end.

“Of course,” Dean mumbles, trailing his lips along her throat. “I just want to be extra careful.”

“I get that. We all want that.”

She almost snorts out a laugh at Chuck’s words and Dean has to cover her mouth with his hand.

“How long have you been at the new safe house?” Chuck asks, and she wonders what it matters.

Dean takes his hands off her mouth and instead holds out two fingers to her lips. She licks at the pads, seals her lips around his digits and Dean coughs to conceal the sound he just made. After his cough, he’s able to answer Chuck.

“We’ve been here since yesterday,” That’s a lie but Dean keeps a straight face, his eyes on her mouth, watching her twirl her tongue around his fingers.

She guesses that Dean has his own plans and doesn’t want Chuck to get suspicious and tell him that they’ve been here since someone tried to kill them.

“Huh,” Chuck huffs out a breath, like he doesn’t believe it. Which only makes him more suspicious, “Okay.”

“Yeah, will that be all, sir?” Dean’s getting impatient, he moves her over his bulge, kisses along the nape of her neck.

“Right, I have a meeting. Tell my wife I said hi.”

“I wi—”

Chuck hangs up before Dean could even finish his word and Dean shuts his phone off, throws it onto the bed and slips his fingers out of her mouth. He brushes them down her throat, painting along her skin with his spit slick fingers. 

“Why can’t he track your phone? He would know where we are, no?” 

“I have an anti tracking device installed.” His lips are on her skin, trailing a path down the side of her neck, teeth nibbling at her skin.

“Oh,” She says, doesn’t know if it was for the anti tracking thing or the good feeling Dean gives her. Probably both.

“Fuck, what are you doing to me,” He whispers, his fingers ghosts over her peaked nipples. He pinches a nipple, rolls it between his fingers, making them harder. “Almost wanted to fuck you while he was on the phone,” 

Dean lets out a growl before standing up with her still in his arms and walks to the nearest wall, pins her against it. He buries his face into the crook of her neck while he holds her up one handed only to rid himself from his pj pants with his other hand. 

“Wanna fuck you again, can I?” He whispers, tongue licking over her sensitive throat.

“Uh-huh,” She doesn’t know why he asks and honestly, she can’t push something coherent past her lips even if she wants to and she pushes her hips down as soon as she feels the blunt head of Dean’s cock nudging against her slick cunt.

“Yeah?” Dean rasps, voice thick with want and he chuckles, lips ghosting over hers.

He kisses her at the same time he pushes in and she gasps into his open mouth while he drinks in the sound she makes.

Y/N grips at his flesh, nails digging in, scraping along his skin and she’s sure that it hurts but he doesn’t care. He breaks the kiss, leaves his forehead on hers as he fucks up and into her, steady, deep, on the right side of painful. 

“Wanted to tell him that you’re not gonna go back to him,” Dean whispers, low and dark, means every word he says, “Wanted to tell him that you’re better off with me. Almost told him that you look so goddamn beautiful when you come, that you’re leaking my cum and you love it.”

He picks up speed and she’s so damn close, even without touching herself. “Dean, please,”

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want,”

“Fuck— me, harder, please,”

“Was wondering if he ever saw you like this, if you ever begged for him to fuck you harder,” He chuckles, picking up speed and she throws her head back.

Dean takes the opportunity, licks and sucks at her throat, “Wonder if you come for him so easily. Do you?”

“N— no,” She’s almost out of breath.

“That’s right, because you’re my good girl, ain’tcha?”

Oh god. 

Her whole body shakes around him, her pussy clenches, squeezing at Dean’s dick and he lets out a grunt at the sudden tightness.

“Jesus. Can’t fucking get enough of you.” He kisses her, pumps his hips faster, drilling himself deeper, she’s leaking down there, the cum from the previous fucking drips down the underside of her thighs, leaking into her ass crack. “You’re killing me, baby. There’s no way that I let you go back to him. I’d love to keep you if you’d let me.”

He thrusts harder, begging with every upstroke for her to stay, begging her to promise him not to go back to Chuck.

And she wants to. Wants for him to keep her.

“Yes,” She whimpers and she doesn’t even know if he knows what she means by that. And she says it again, “Yes, yes— yes.”

Dean smiles, kisses her rough and hard, buries himself into her with one last thrust of his hips.


	12. CH.12

The next day Dean had moved her to another safe house and they had spent the two days far away from anyone. She didn’t really ask him why, not that it matters to her anymore, anyway. They have everything they need here and they didn’t want to risk going into town and expose her to the public eye. Not when Chuck’s plan comes to an end today.

Dean texted Chuck this morning, telling Chuck their coordinates but it was the one from their second safe house. Not this one. He does have something in mind and even though he hasn’t told her about his plans, she thinks she kind of knows. 

The safe house they’re in now is apparently not really a safe house. Dean said he spent a lot of time here and it’s close by a lake. They took a stroll there once and she liked it. Likes the quiet of it and somehow when she was there, standing by the lake and breathing in the fresh air, it felt like her problems were all gone. 

She doesn’t know what’s going to happen next. Only knows that they don’t want to go back to what they were. There’s no going back. Not after all she’s been through. 

When it’s safe for her to go back, though, she’s determined to find a lawyer and divorce Chuck. She doesn’t even care about the money, it was never about the money. It was about Chuck’s reputation all along and the only loser in this is going to be her. Because she’s sure that Chuck will be able to turn this all around and make out that she’s the one to blame for the divorce. But strangely, she’s ready to take that fall. Maybe because she knows that Dean’ll have her back, no matter what.

Dean has fucked her on every surface of their new cabin, and has made her come more in the last days than she ever did in the marriage with Chuck. But it’s not only about that. It’s also about the way he treats her. He never made her feel uncomfortable, never did pressure her into anything and it makes her wonder if a relationship should be like that? She never knew anything else than what she had with Chuck. 

While Dean’s still in the showers, she decides to cook them breakfast. She hasn’t cooked in a while, though, kind of hopes that it’s going to be edible at all.

She turns the bacon in the pan and jumps up when she feels an arm coming around her waist, before Dean lays his chin on her shoulder.

“Smells good,” Dean whispers, “Could eat you up.” His other hand that’s not around her waist slips beneath her shirt, and she doesn’t wear any panties, which grants Dean a super easy access. 

“Dean,” She chuckles as he kisses along her neck, his scruff tickling her. His other hand palms over her ass, squeezes it lightly. She gasps, letting her head fall back against his broad shoulders, “I’ll burn them.”

He kisses along her cheek, “It’s not my fault you look so fucking delicious,” His hand goes between the crack of ass cheeks, toys with her pussy from the rear, “No underwear, too. How am I supposed to resist you like this?” He dips two fingers in easily, she’s still plenty wet from his teasing in bed this morning, right before he pushed himself up and went to take a shower, leaving her hot and bothered.

Dean’s a total tease. She had learned this the hard way. And apparently, his willpower is stronger than hers.

“Dean, the bacon,” She warns him, doesn’t really want him to stop though. She keens, arches her back, wants more of it. 

He chuckles, his chest rumbles and she can feel the vibrations on her back. Taking his fingers out, Dean licks at them. She turns her head and he grins cockily, “You’re right. That would be a waste of bacon if you’d burn them,” He kisses her forehead and helps her set up the table as if nothing happened. As if she wasn't so close to coming on his fingers. 

They eat in silence and Dean’s kind of absent. She can see that bodyguard Dean’s back. Can see it in the tense of his shoulder. He frowns more and is more lost in his thoughts. 

Y/N offers to do the dishes afterwards, leaving Dean time to do whatever’s on his mind. He starts up the laptop, they still haven’t heard anything from Chuck yet regarding the coordinates Dean sent out. But she also knows that Dean has a plan because he’s typing away at something on his laptop. It seems like he’s chatting to someone. 

After she’s done the dishes, she sits down with him and watches him work on his firearms. He’s cleaning them and checking them up. It looks so easy, Dean calloused fingers working swiftly. She bets he can do it blindly and she blushes when she thinks where his fingers have been moments before. 

“Am I turning you on?” There’s that cocky smirk again and he’s full on looking at her while his hands are still working on his gun.

“No?” She says but she blushes some more, has to squeeze her thighs together to ease the throbbing that she feels between them.

Dean sorts out a laugh, “Liar,” With his next breath he asks, “Can you handle a gun?”

It’s her turn to grin, her lips stretched big on her face.

“Not mine, Christ, Y/N.” He almost rolls his eyes.

“Oh,” She giggles, “Then no.”

“Maybe you should learn how to use one.” 

“Yeah,” She says, “Maybe,” But actually she doesn’t want to. She can barely cook without hurting herself, she doesn’t think having access to a loaded gun will be any good.

Dean looks back to the gun, assembles it quickly before he works on his other one. She doesn’t know why he has so many. 

“You ever killed anyone?” She asks, and then thinks that it’s a really stupid question because he’s an ex-marine and was deployed, and of course he killed at least one other person, he must have. 

His face changes and there’s a growing crease between his eyebrows, “Yeah,” Dean says. It’s almost a whisper, “Yeah, I have.”

“In the war?”

Dean nods, and turns his gaze back to the gun. 

She doesn’t press further, just sits there and watches him. And after a while, Dean starts to talk again.

“I was on a mission, we’re twelve of us. And it was all routine until there was an explosion that blocked our way and they came jumping out from their hiding spots. We were surrounded without an escape.”

Dean takes the cloth and wraps it around his finger, dips it into some kind of grease and starts to clean the gun with it, “More than half of us didn’t get out of there. And I was with Cas.”

“Cas is an ex-marine too?”

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, doesn’t look like it, though. He had some troubles adjusting when we came back and he’s been battling his inner demon since.”

“You do too.”

“More than you know.” Dean clears his throat, “Cas got stabbed in his thigh on that day. A young guy launched forward and I tackled him to the ground. Everyone was struggling at keeping the enemy at bay and as far away as we could, and I straddled that guy while bullets were still raining on us.”

Dean grips his gun a little tighter, the white of his knuckles showing, “I still remember the look in his eyes. He was maybe barely legal, and while I looked at him, his face turned white. All I could see was the fear in his eyes. He was so fucking terrified and that’s when I thought, he’s a human being too, y’know.”

She nods.

“And then I thought that the last thing he’ll ever see is my face, and that’s no way to die. The last thing you see should be of someone you love and not of someone who’s going to shoot you in the head. I decided to quit right then and there. I don’t want to be at the receiving end, if I can avoid it.”

Dean sniffs a little, tears pool in his eyes and she gets up, walks around the table to stand next to him. She lays her hand on his shoulder until he tilts his head towards her, leans it against her stomach and she cradles his face, strokes his head. 

“But now you’re still working a dangerous job.” She says because it’s true. He could get shot either. 

He lets go of the cloth and his gun, wraps his arms around her waist and stares up at her, his chin resting on her stomach, “Not every bodyguard job is the same. 99% of it it’s just me trying to protect people from crazy fans. There’s nothing really dangerous about it.”

“I’m sorry.” She says, feeling guilty to have dragged him into this. 

“Don’t be,” He turns her around in his grip, makes her sit on his lap sideways and noses at her temple, “Besides, I think after this is done, I’ll quit.”

“You will?” She asks him and he chuckles, kisses her cheek.

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice is low, the bass transfers over to her body, “I met this girl and I think, when this is all over, I’ll ask her out.”

At the mention of a girl her heart drops into her stomach and there’s a momentary numbness but then her lips spread into a small smile upon realization, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if she would say yes, though.”

She turns her head, kisses his nose, “I think she will.”

“You think so?” He raises his eyebrows. 

“I know so.” Her hand comes up, paints along Dean’s face with her thumb. There are so many freckles, and she thinks she’s memorized them all by now.

He replicates her smile, holds her just a little tighter and rests his chin on her shoulder, “I wanna take you out properly. Take you places you wanna go. Wanna walk around, holding your hand. Wanna take you to meet my friends, and I wanna meet yours, if you — ”

Dean gets interrupted by his phone. 

It’s an unknown number to him because he frowns but she knows the number by heart. It’s Meg’s.

“Meg,” She whispers and Dean picks up, putting her friend on speaker.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?” Meg’s voice is loud and furious.

“Woah, Meg, calm down, will ya?” Dean’s almost equally loud but maybe because Meg is so loud. She’s sobbing on the other end, too.

“You killed her, didn’t you? I’m on my way to the police station, by the way, don’t even think that you can get away with this!”

“I killed who?” Dean growls.

“Y/N!”

It’s then that Y/N speaks up, “Meg, I’m okay, nothing happened to me. Don’t go to the police!”

“Oh my god. Oh thank god, you’re alive. You’re really okay? Oh my god!”

“I’m really okay,” She gets out from Dean’s lap and stands next to him, one hand on his shoulder to calm him down because she can feel his blood boiling underneath, “What makes you think that I’m not okay?”

Dean’s already typing in her name in google and clicked on the first link that shows up. 

_ BREAKING: A SEVERED RING FINGER WITH WEDDING RING SENT TO FAMOUS RECORD MOGUL CHUCK SHURLEY _

The article mentioned that Chuck has identified the finger as hers and there’s a picture of the engagement ring and her wedding band. 

Her jaw drops.

“Y/N? Still there?” Meg asks between sniffs.

“That’s total bullshit!” Y/N cries out, “I haven’t worn my wedding band in ages except I had to play the happy wife.”

Dean’s been awfully quiet. His lips are pressed into a tight line. 

“Why would someone do that?” Meg asks, “And why doesn’t Chuck say that you’re safe with your bodyguard?”

Dean clears his throat, “Because if Chuck says it was me, he’ll be going down himself. He’s not a fucking idiot, unfortunately. He knows that I have all the evidence that I’m hired to keep her safe and he got all the updates on our whereabouts by texts and emails.” 

“But whose finger is it? Ewwww,” Meg sounds disgusted, “And why?”

“Meg,” Dean says, “Does anyone know that you have my number?”

“No,”

“Good, keep it a secret. Don’t go to the police. Play along, be the distraught friend. Don’t reveal to anyone that Y/N’s safe and sound. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Y/N hears Meg squealing on the other end and even Dean has to chuckle at that. 

“Right, Meg, please, please stay away from Chuck until I know what’s going on, okay? If you stay away he won’t be able to bother you to ask if you’ve heard from me.” She tells her friend.

“Of course.” Meg says, “Alright, I need to go back to work then. I’m so glad that you’re okay. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

Dean disconnects Meg and they both stare at each other, neither of them know what to think about it.

He pinches at the bridge of his nose, “How did he get the rings?”

“I have them in my jewelry box. I didn’t take them with me. Where do you think he has got the finger from?” 

She places her hand on her stomach, feels nauseous just thinking about it. 

“I guess we’ll know when the finger has been examined. Unless he succeeds in manipulating the test results as well.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” She feels her tears pooling, one of them drips down her cheek. She doesn't even want to cry. 

He stands up and wraps his big arms around her, making her disappear into his chest, “I don’t know. I don’t like it but I got you, alright? We’ll figure it out.”


	13. CH.13

Y/N has a breakdown and she almost slips out of Dean’s grip, but he caught her right before her body could hit the floor. He scoops her up, carries her to the couch and sits down with her, manhandles her into straddling him and lets her cry into the crook of his neck while he strokes her back, pets her head, whispers to her that everything’s going to be okay. 

It’s something she needs to hear, and she really wants to believe him, she does. With all her heart. 

After a while, when her sobbing dies down, she parts from him and sees that his collar is awfully wet from her tears, and his shirt is stained from her snot. She probably looks as bad as she feels. Trying to hide her puffy face, she looks away, but Dean grips at her chin, making her look at him. And when she pushes herself away a little, one of his hands goes to her hips, holding her a little tighter.

“You okay?”

Y/N nods, although she’s far from being o-fucking-kay, and after a while, she says, “I’m sorry you got pulled into this mess.”

“Jesus,” His voice is a little louder, “I thought I made it clear, but apparently, I didn’t.” He pulls her closer and lets her snuggle up to him, her head rests on his chest. She can hear his heart beating, can hear the rumble of his voice, it‘s soothing, “I’ve been through much worse, don’t worry about me. I just want you safe.”

Why? She still doesn’t get why he does it. He barely knows her. 

“Why did you sign up for service?” She asks, needs some kind of distraction and she’s really curious, too. Maybe knowing the reason will make her understand him better. 

Dean swallows before he talks and she thinks that he doesn’t like to remember, and she’s ready to accept if he doesn’t want to remember that part of his life, but then he speaks, “My mom died when we were young. Dad was drunk all the time. In fact, he’s probably lying drunk in a ditch right now, who knows.” There’s a chuckle but it’s a sad one, “I took care of Sammy, my brother, but I was a rebel, just barely made it through high school. Cas and me, we were up to no good. The turning point was when Sammy had the ambition to become a lawyer. Maybe he wanted to be able to bail us out, I don’t know. I thought if I go into service, I’d have money to support Sammy. He’s clearly the brains in the family. It was the right decision because he's now a lawyer, they just made him partner.”

She can hear out of Dean’s voice that he’s proud of his brother. 

“Cas and me, we weren’t exactly the well behaved teens around. And maybe we wanted to see how far we’d get. It was another challenge, really. One that got me good benefits.”

“Are you glad you chose that path?” 

Dean’s thinking. Taking his time, his jaw clenching and releasing, “Yeah,” He says, “Yeah, I think we turned out pretty good.” And then he lowers his head, kisses her forehead and leaves his lips there, “And If I wouldn’t have taken this path, I wouldn’t have met you.”

It’s crazy how he can make her heart flutter with simple words. 

“I’m glad I met you, too.” She mumbles. 

“And I know that the storm’s not over but I want you to know that after all this, I really want to take you out. We’ll get Sam to handle your divorce. I know I don’t have much to offer compared to Chuck,”

She snorts at that and even Dean has to laugh with her. 

“I don’t want to go back.”

“Baby, I know.”

Grinning, she looks up at him and he frowns, “What?”

“I like it when you call me baby.” Her smile is bright and white.

“You do?” He smirks, “Baby, baby, baby, baby.” Dean whispers as he presses his lips on hers.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


They went to take an afternoon nap together, it was more for her to calm herself down and Dean lay himself beside her, stroking her back until she fell asleep.

When Y/N wakes up again, it’s already evening. She turns around and notices that the space next to her is empty. The room is dark and the only light source comes from the living room. Heavy footsteps sounding out of it.

Getting out of bed, she walks towards the source. Leaning her body against the door frame, she watches as Dean gathers things and stuffs them into his duffel. 

“Where are you going?” She yawns and rubs at her eyes, she shouldn’t have taken a nap, it makes her more tired than she was before she took it. Her eyes are still burning a little from crying.

“I need to make sure that I’m right.” Dean answers, doesn’t really look at her because he’s lost in thought, “I’m going back to the old cabin, see if Chuck sends someone around to kill us.”

How is she not surprised about his plans? There’s really nothing shocking about it. Instead of being stunned at what he just said, she says, “I’m coming with you.”

Dean stops mid-motion to look at her, “No.”

“Dean,”

“Baby, no. You’re the first they’ll be aiming at.”

Dean’s right. Or maybe he isn’t. Maybe they’ll be aiming at him first to get him out of the way. Which, when she thinks of it, isn’t any better.

“But you promised!” Her hands fly around her and she lets out a frustrating sound.

He just stares at her, as if he’s debating with himself and she stands her ground, crosses her arm provocatively over her chest, tapping with her foot, for good measure.

Letting his arms drop to his side, Dean throws his head back dramatically and rolls his eyes, “Fine. If something happens, I swear,”

“It’s better if you have a back up anyway, no?” She smiles a smile of a winner. Although she’s terrified as hell. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Dean parks his bike a safe distance away and they hike the last mile to the cabin, reaching it from the forest. Dean knows his way around, she can tell. 

They go up as far as the nearest big tree to be as close to the cabin as possible and he drops his bag, fishes a gun and another out of it. He hands one to her wordlessly. 

“But, I—”

Dean interrupts her, pulls her in for a kiss by the back of her neck. When he breaks the kiss, he leaves his forehead on hers, “Just in case you need it, alright?”

She nods.

He gives her a quick safety guide and then they crouch down and wait. She already feels like a lot of time has passed and it’s getting colder too. Their breathing starts to fog. The ground underneath her is damp. All in all, it’s not a super great experience. 

“Jesus, you’re freezing,” Dean hisses when he hears the chatter of her teeth. 

“I’m o-okay,” She says with a stutter. 

Dean has to chuckle, “You don’t look okay, though.” He scooches closer, drapes an arm around her, rubs at her arm while he pulls her close. And with the kiss to her temple, she feels kind of warm again. It’s crazy how little it takes for him to make her heart flutter. It’s not really fair at all. 

“How come you’re not cold?” She asks, turns her face towards him and presses her icy nose against his cheek. He jumps a little and she has to chuckle at that.

“I’m used to harsh weather,” Dean shrugs, and then he digs something out of the duffel, “And I have this,” He smiles while he holds out a flask to her.

She grins, “Always prepared, Mr. Winchester. Except for the condoms.” 

Dean snorts out a laugh at that, and she takes a large swig out of the flask.

“Hey, hey! Easy there,” He takes it out of her hand, takes a swig himself and screws it shut, “It’s only to warm us up, I need you sharp.” 

As soon as he said it, they heard the sound of bullets crashing against a wall.

Even before she knows what to do, Dean’s already on his feet, gun drawn, and he steps out into the open, “You stay.” 

“But—”

“For god’s sake, do what I say,” Dean hisses and then he’s off. 

Y/N decides to wait, and she counts. She doesn’t know why she counts but why the hell not?

She gets to twenty when she hears voices. One of them is Dean’s. There’s another voice as well, and it sounds awfully like one or both of them are struggling. 

_ Shit. _

Cocking her gun, she runs towards the source.  _ You stay _ my ass. 

Rounding up the corner to the front, she sees someone holding Dean at gunpoint. Dean’s kneeling in front of him, a gun pointed right to Dean’s head. She can see some scratches, sees blood running down his cheek from Dean’s brow.

_ Fuck. _

“Ah, there you are, I thought he wouldn’t let you out of his sight, was already wondering when you’ll get here.” The man snickers, “You got him soft, didn’t you? I thought he’s that tough ex-marine guy who could snap me in half.”

“Fuck off, you only got lucky,” Dean snarls back.

But maybe the man’s right. Maybe she made Dean soft and careless. Maybe it’s all her fault.

“Let him go,” Her eyes are teary, what the fuck, why does it have to happen now. She should learn to fucking keep it together. 

“I’m afraid, I can’t do that, sweetheart,” The man chuckles and pulls Dean up by Dean’s arm, using him as a human shield and fuck, she can’t shoot like that. She’ll most definitely hurt Dean.

She thinks about the last couple of days, thinks about what Dean told her. It’s not Dean they want. Dean told her that whoever it was, they’re going to aim at her first. So she says what she thinks, “You want me, not him. Let him go.” 

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N!” Dean grunts out, he’s mad at her, she knows.

The man has now an arm around Dean’s throat, keeping him in a headlock. 

“Who are you?” She asks the man, tries to buy some time to think of her next move. If she pulls the trigger, chances are that she’ll most likely kill Dean, so she’d like to avoid that.

“Name’s Ketch, nice to meet you. I’ve heard so many things about you. And I’m honestly sorry that we have to meet like this. If it was for me, I’d take you out, first, buy you a drink, how does that sound, huh?”

Dean grunts some more, and he’s struggling to get away. She hates to see that. It physically hurts her heart.

“Who sent you?” She does her best not to sob out the words. 

“I’m afraid I can not tell you that or else I must kill you,” Ketch suddenly laughs, “Oh, my bad.”

What a fucking psychopath.

“It’s Chuck, isn’t it?” It’s not like she doesn’t know it already. She just wants to be sure that her husband really wants her dead. In that case, she’ll personally rip his balls out from his body. 

“Ah, you’re so bright,” Ketch says in a mocking tone, “Makes me feel even worse to have to kill you.”

“Shoot him.” It’s barely a whisper from Dean and upon hearing it, Ketch grips at him tighter.

She cries more now, “Dean, I can’t. I’ll shoot you too!”

_ Baby _ , Dean mouths at her, and then he mouths another word,  _ finger _ . His gaze travels downwards to signal it for her. 

Y/N frowns, trying to read what he’s saying to her. But then she sees it. Sees Dean holding out four fingers. And then one disappears, so there’s only three. 

Hoping she knows what he really means, she tries to keep a straight face. He really wants her to shoot as soon as he finishes counting down, doesn’t he? If this will not end them all, she doesn’t know what will. She’s going to shoot her bodyguard, her lover, the only man that cares about her right now. And knowing her, she’ll kill him and then Ketch is going to kill her. This is definitely  _ not  _ how she wants her life to end.

_ Two fingers. _

She tries to breath steadily. 

_ One finger. _

Dean really means it, doesn’t he?

_ Fuck. _

As soon as Dean’s hand balls to a fist, Dean struggles out of Ketch’s grip, drops to the floor and she pulls the trigger, aiming for — 

— she doesn’t know. Just fucking  _ something _ .

And Y/N closes her eyes, waiting for the bullet to go through her skull.


	14. CH.14

Y/N stands there, her eyes are closed, tears running down her cheeks as she waits for a bullet to hit her and end her life. Her ears are ringing from the gunfire, she doesn't hear a thing.

She waits.

And waits.

She has heard people say that before someone dies, they see their whole life pass in front of their eyes in a string of images. She doesn’t see a damn thing. But if she would, she knows that she would have hated every second of it. She’s angry that Chuck turned against her. Angry that he wants her dead. She once trusted him, shared a bed with him, fucking married him. But did she love him? 

No, she thinks, it was never love. 

Love isn’t supposed to be like the thing she knew. Love is supposed to be like this. Like the things she feels when she looks at Dean. Like the butterflies that are flying around in her stomach when he calls out her name. Love should be like the flutters in her heart that she feels when he touches her. Love should make her feel comfortable. Love should give her strengths. 

Suddenly she remembers Dean’s word. The way he said that the last thing you should see before you die is someone you love.

And she wants to see it. 

She wants to see  _ him _ . 

So, she opens up her eyes. 

Everything comes back in a rush, the sound around her, the noises, the cold of the night, the darkness. 

Dean’s holding a gun to Ketch while that man is writhing on the ground, whimpering in pain.

_ Oh, thank fucking god. _

“Baby,” Dean calls out for her. He looks at her but not quite because he needs to keep Ketch in check, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She nods and walks towards Dean, “Yes.” 

She’s crying again. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with her well of tears. It’s running non stop!

Dean reaches out his left arm, beckons her closer and she goes willingly. Immediately, he pulls her into a one armed embrace, while his other arm still points the gun to Ketch’s head. She buries her face into Dean’s chest and he kisses the crown of her head, whispering to her, “It’s okay, everything’s okay. I’m here, alright?”

Y/N nods.

“Look at you,” Ketch snorts, “Fucking the one you should protect. Not very professional, are you?”

Dean presses his lips into a thin line and doesn’t answer Ketch's question. Instead, he asks, “What was your plan?”

“Why? Will you let me go if I tell you?”

Dean doesn’t answer.

“I thought so. You might as well kill me now.”

She looks at Ketch, sees him holding his stomach and she flinches. He probably won’t make it anyway if they won’t call for an ambulance soon. And she’s not sure if she wants to because that man tried to kill them and then he would report to Chuck and Chuck would send someone else. It would never stop. They’d be on the run forever — or at least  _ she _ would be, because it’s still not too late for Dean to drop out of this.

“Look, Ketch,” Dean says, his voice is exceptionally calm, “We can either let you bleed to death, which let me tell you, is probably not the best idea since there are wolves and bears around. As soon as they smell you, it’s going to be painful, ain’t gonna lie.” Dean pauses, probably for the dramatic effect, “Or you can tell us about your plans and I’ll put an end to your suffering. You won’t get out alive but I at least can give you that.”

“Fuck—” Ketch curses, and she knows that he’s weighing his options.

“I was to kill her, alright,” He has to pause to breathe against the pain, “A-and I was to make sure it looks like an accident. He wants to frame you so you would be the one who killed her.”

She buries her face deeper in Dean’s chest, wants to fucking disappear in there because she doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t even want to imagine it. Dean locked away for a crime he didn’t even commit. Strangely, she’s not worried about herself at all.

Dean kisses her again on the top of her head, holds her just a little tighter. He leaves his lips there, mumbles to her in a soft whisper, “I’m sorry about what I’m going to do. Don’t look, okay? Cover your ears, baby.”

And that, she does, she covers her ears, buries her face deeper into him and closes her eyes, to be extra sure. 

Y/N still flinches when she hears the shot.

  
  
  


*

  
  


She goes into the cabin while Dean waits for Cas and his uncle Bobby outside. She doesn’t know what they’ll do with Ketch, and if she’s honest, she doesn’t really want to know either. 

When Dean comes in, it’s already morning. He goes straight to the kitchen, boils some water, walks into the bedroom with a mug, sits next to her on the bed and places the mug on the bedside table. 

“I’m closing the door, okay? I have to discuss things with Cas and Bobby. You need to rest. And when we’re finished, we’re going back to our cabin.”

“Can you stay? Just a moment?” She doesn’t know if she sounds needy but right now, all she wants is to feel him close.

“Of course,” Dean smirks at her but he gets up to close the door, she guesses that it’s in case the others are coming in. 

He gets into bed with her, spoons her from behind and she can feel the warmth from his body. Dean buries his face into the back of her neck, his nose ice cold, and it makes her jump a little.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asks him and she can feel him lift his head. 

“Sure,”

“I aimed at Ketch’s head.”

Dean snorts out a laugh, “Then I can be fucking thankful that I’m still alive.”

She punches at his arm because he wouldn’t stop laughing.

After a while, he gets serious again, “I really need to get out there, will you be okay?”

“Uh-huh,”

Dean braces himself on his elbow, looking down at her, “Uh-huh?”

“Yeah,” She turns on her back, and looks into Dean’s eyes. There’s a plaster on his wound, dried blood around it. She reaches out, skims her finger around it and he flinches, “‘M sorry.”

He shakes his head, lowers down and kisses her. It grows so fast between them too. The kiss gets more intense, his fingers tighter around her, tongue sliding deeper, it’s getting harder to breathe. 

“Uh, I—” Cas barges into the room. 

She was so lost in the kiss that she didn’t even hear him. 

Dean comes up for air, “Be right there,” He says but he doesn’t look at Cas, his gaze is still on hers, fingers skimming over her cheek. “Thought I’d lost you tonight.”

But she did see Cas. Sees a smirk on his face, the wink of his eyes before he closes the door.

She’s warm now, feels her cheeks blushing more than they already are. Dean leaves a last lingering kiss before he pushes himself up and out the door.   
  


*

  
  
  


Back in their cabin, she gets into the bathroom, undresses and takes a warm shower. She feels numb, it feels so surreal and it’s a relief to take off the night, let the rain of the shower head wash it away. She wishes that it could take away all the pain as well. The pain of knowing that her husband wants her dead. 

And then it hits her. It all comes crashing down around her when she realizes that she helped kill a man. And it doesn’t calm her heart to know that the man was out to kill her first. 

Nonetheless, she fucking killed a man. 

Y/N brings her arms around herself, leans against the tiled wall and she can’t help it. She starts sobbing. The life she had was all a lie, wasn’t it? When this is all over, she has to rebuild her life. She’ll have to start from scratch, she’ll have to—

—Dean’s arms around her brings her back to reality. 

Dean.

She almost lost him. 

How dare he tell her to shoot. How dare he fucking thought that she won’t kill him when she pulled that damn trigger. 

Dean, oh god, she almost killed him and then what? She’d be all alone. 

“Shhhhh,” He says, pulling her into his chest, his big arms wrapped around her, his hand stroking her head and her back. 

“How dare you!” She yells into his chest, cries some more, her hands hitting the side of his body, and she scrambles at his back, dig into his flesh, “How fucking dare you, Dean! I almost lost you!” 

“Hey, hey, baby,” Dean says, it’s loud but his voice is calm. 

He peels himself from her, and she sees that he’s naked too. She tries not to get irritated, though, balls her fists and punches at his chest and he takes it, lets her take her anger and frustrations out on him, doesn’t even fucking budge. 

“I could have killed you!” She’s wailing by now, her fists are on his chest, and she scrambles at it for purchase. “Dean, what would I do if I lost you!”

“Shhh,” He hushes her, pulls her close, locks his arms around her so tight that she can not move anymore. And he lets her cry on his chest, “Baby, we’re alive.”

When her sobbing dies down, she tilts her head up to see his eyes. They’re red rimmed either.

“I don’t feel alive.” She whispers, because it’s true. She feels numb, feels like the whole world is crashing down around her and she has nobody to hold on to except—

Dean lifts her up, pushes her against the tiles, crashing his mouths on hers in one swift move. It doesn’t leave her any other option than to claw at his back and drink in his kisses. It’s good. So good. It makes her forget about all the other things that’s going wrong in her life. 

He’s kissing her, hard and rough, pours all the things he can not say into the kiss. Things she can’t hear but feel. She cries into the kiss, it’s impossible to stop the tears. 

“Fuck me,” She breathes out, because she wants it. Wants him. Wants their bodies to be connected. Thinks, that it’s the only thing that’ll keep her alive right now.

Breaking the kiss, he looks at her, their noses touch and he searches for something in her eyes. She doesn’t know what it is but he finds it, his lips curve up a little and then she feels it. Feels him. His cock head breaches her opening and she moans out into Dean’s mouth. He pushes in further, sinking in inch by glorious inch. It stretches her so good. Dean goes deeper, and it hurts, the right kind of hurt, the one that reminds her that she’s alive and he is, too. One that reminds them both that they’re still here, together. 

The warm water rains down on them, fog fills the bathroom, she feels everything so intensely. 

Dean starts to fuck up into her, but he never stops kissing her. As if he doesn’t want her head to have room for other thoughts, “Baby, we’re okay, we have this. We have us, alright?” He whispers, soft, mumbling against the plush of her lips. 

She nods with her eyes closed.

“I’m here. No matter what,” He whispers some more, sprays kisses all over her face. Her brows, her nose, her closed eyes, “And I mean it. I’m not only here for the fun part, I’m here no matter what,” He kisses her lips again, rests them there while he increases his speed. She’s so close from his cock alone. He just manages to hit all the right places inside of her, it drives her crazy. 

“Baby, look at me,” Dean says, and she does, opening up her eyes to look into his green ones. He’s panting hard, their breathing mingle, he’s close himself, she can see. “I want you to know that, okay? I want you to trust me that I’m here. I got you, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N cries, and cranes her neck, surges her face forward to melt her mouth on his. She wants to believe him. Wants to believe that he’s staying. She knows he is. She does trust him. It’s just— she doesn’t know if there are more people like Ketch around. People who could shatter her trust in Dean’s words.

  
  



	15. CH.15

Y/N manages to get Dean to sit down on the closed toilet lid because she wants to tend to his wound. He only has a towel wrapped around him. A small one too, for that matter, because she has the last big towel wrapped around herself. 

She’s standing between his spread thighs and Dean sits perfectly still, only flinches a little when she takes his band aid off, which prompts her to laugh, “Oh, come on, you are a big tough guy,”

“Well,” Dean chuckles, “You’re not exactly a light handed doctor, ripping it off like that,”

“I’d be careful what you say,” She warns him before spraying disinfectant on the wound, shielding his eyes with the palm of her hand. Dean flinches again, his hands coming up to touch the side of her thighs.

She’s working swiftly while he skims his fingertips over her thighs, rubbing up and down, distracting her.

When she peels the band aid out of it’s foil, Dean has managed to tug at her towel so hard it comes right off, and pools around her ankles. 

“You’re distracting me,” She says, and moves closer, to place the band aid directly over his wound. He’s close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her chest. 

Dean only chuckles lightly, his big palms stroking up her thighs and higher, until he has both her ass cheeks on the palm of his hands. “ _You’re_ distracting _me_ ,” He says, throwing her words back at her. 

Before she can step away, Dean’s holding her back, his face comes forward, suck in her nipple, his tongue tickling it inside of his mouth until it hardens and she keens, placing her hands behind the back of his neck.

Y/N looks down to him, sees the towel tenting around his hips and she has to laugh, “What’s wrong with you? We just fucked and you’re ready to go again?”

He releases her nipple, looks up and places his chin on her stomach, smiles at her with a boyish smile that makes him look younger than he is, “Can’t help it. You turn me on so fucking much.”

She rolls her eyes, peels herself away from him and he just chuckles.

“Anywhere else you’re hurt?”

Dean grins and places his index finger to his lips, “Yeah, here,”

He’s totally cute. She doesn’t want to admit it, though. Leaning in, she pecks his lips, parts only so much that she can talk, “Anywhere else?”

“Yeah, but that would mean that we’ll get dirty again.” He says with a wink and she has to laugh before she pushes herself up.

While she puts the first aid kit back into place, Dean’s phone rings and he walks out to pick it up.

She follows and she can’t help but watch him. He’s standing there in only the little towel around his hips, the tent still very much erect and the way he talks with his hand, chest muscle moving, it turns her on, too.

Slipping into the bedroom, she gets dressed, leaving Dean some privacy to talk. When she walks out, she hears him ending the call and he looks at her, a frown etched deep into his face.

“What now?” She asks, because really, what is it now? 

Dean shakes his head, “I’ll get an email. I’ll tell you when it’s here.” 

She’s sitting at the table and waits for Dean to get dressed. When he walks out, she can hear a ping, it signals that an email has arrived.

Sitting down on the chair next to her, Dean clicks on it. It opens up to a copy of a document and he tilts the screen towards her, “Does this look familiar to you?”

Y/N squints her eyes and then her jaw drops. She gasps, clasps her hand over her mouth but she can’t tear her eyes away from the document. There’s something written in big bold letters LIFE INSURANCE. And there’s her name, and Chuck’s and it’s a sum of $10 million in case of her death. 

“You didn’t sign it, did you?” Dean asks to be sure, even though he can see from her reaction that she’s never seen it before in her life.

“This is the first time I see this,” She feels her heart racing, “No, no, no.” She says, over and over. There’s something clutching at her chest, it makes it harder for her to breathe.

Dean immediately picks her up, walks her to the couch and sits down with her on his lap. He pulls her head to his chest, “Breath, baby. Breath with me, alright?”

She listens to his heartbeat, listens to his even breathing and tries to match hers to his.

After a while, when her breathing got back to normal, Dean made her look at him “You okay?”

“Not really,” She sighs, “How did you get this?”

“Ash’s my tech guru. I ask him to do some digging,” He huffs out a breath, “This is fucked up. I guess he won’t stop until you’re dead.”

Ash. The name does ring a bell. That’s the guy he went to see while she talked to Cas. Dean already suspected Chuck back then. 

“Well, that’s really reassuring,”

Dean scoffs, “You know what I mean.”

She does. 

“What can we do? Shall we contact the police now?”

“That would be the best,” He agrees and places his lips to her temple, lingers there, “Let me make some calls. I know just someone who could help.”

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


It’s a day later that Dean manages to reach the person he wanted to. Benny, he said. He was an ex-marine as well. It seems like they are a well-knitted bunch of people who once have sworn to fight together and trust each other. She admires that. Admires their loyalty. It’s nothing close to what she has. Meg is an exception to the rule here.

Benny is now a detective with the police but he’s not responsible for this district, but maybe Benny could help contact the right people. Dean’s been nervous about contacting him. He said that he hates to ask for help from anyone. 

Dean walks out of the bedroom where he has been talking to Benny, a little smirk on his face, “Good, he said we’ll have to send him what we know and he’ll see where he can direct it to.” He sits down on his laptop and begins to send all the files that he has. 

  
  


*

  
  


It’s later in the afternoon that she feels her boobs hurting. It’s not a good sign. Dean’s in the kitchen, doing some dishes when she walks in, “I think my period is approaching.” She says it like it is, there’s no need to hide because they’re sticking together like glue and she needs tampons.

He looks at her, one eyebrow raised, “I’ll go get them.”

How did she know that he’ll say that?

“I’m coming with you,” She crosses her arms over her chest and watches Dean dry his hands before walking over to her, rubs at her upper arm, his lips pressed into a thin line, his dimples are showing. 

“I should have never promised,” He mumbles, his hands come up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You crossed your heart,” She reminds him which makes him smirk. 

He walks out into the living room then, grabs his duffel, takes out something and she follows. When she’s close enough, he throws a little square plastic thing to her, she manages to catch it. 

“In case someone needs to see it.” Dean says.

Turning it around in her hands she sees the word KANSAS. It’s a Kansas driver’s license. And there’s a picture of her, there’s her name but it’s not her last name. Instead of Shurley, there’s another name.

WINCHESTER.

Dean made her a fake ID? With his name? 

“When did you manage to pull this off?”

His smile is cocky, “Remember when I went into town the first time?” He asks and puts on his leather jacket, “You told me that you’d like a new identity. Bobby made it.”

“So, what am I to you? Your sister? Your wife?” She teases him because she likes to see the blush of his cheeks.

“You could also be my grandmother for all I know,” He says with a straight face and a shrug of his shoulders that makes her roll her eyes and maybe she’s pouting a little. 

Dean walks closer, the smile tugging away at the corner of his lips. He takes her jacket from the back of the chair and holds it out to her, “Come on, before you bleed to death.”

She wears it, and he drapes one arm over her shoulder, pulls her in for a peck on her forehead, “Granny,” He says and laughs and she elbows him in his ribs. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


They arrive at the nearest store, which maybe, she thinks, it’s also the only store around here. 

Dean gets off the bike first and takes off his helmet. She takes hers off too and magically, Dean produces a baseball cap out of somewhere and places it on her head before he lifts her off the bike. 

Before they go in, he turns to her, “Okay, we go in, get what we want and then we’re out, you understand? You go look for your, whatever you need, and while I’m here I get some more things.”

“Condoms?” She asks, smiles smugly. 

He has to laugh out loud, “I think it’s too late for that,”

“It’s never too late,” She says with a straight face to which Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to get them?”

She laughs then, thinks it’s so easy to rile him up. Standing on her tip toe, she cranes her neck, whispers into his ear, “No, I like for you to fuck me raw.”

Standing back, she watches him. Watches his face change from confusion to being turned on at her nasty words. 

He spreads his lips, his grin cocky, and he lowers himself, to whisper into her ear, “Good, because I love to feel how wet you are for me.” Dean boops her nose before he turns and starts to walk towards the entrance, turns around again to call out for her to follow. She’s been frozen in place, her face flush.

The bell rings when they step in and she immediately feels like all eyes are on her. Which is probably not the case. She just can’t shake off the feeling. 

She walks past a stack of magazines, sees some tabloid ones with her face on the front page. Thankfully it’s not a big picture. Dean quickly takes her hand and pulls her to the back, searching for the sanitary aisle with her. 

He did leave her to look at what she needs while he goes and buys some other things and while she stands there, she can swear that the young teen girl is staring at her. She pulls her cap further down her head. 

Grabbing at a package of tampons, she heads out of the aisle to search for Dean. It’s not a big shop. It’s probably the smallest grocery store she’s been in. Probably six long aisles, at most, so it’s not hard to find Dean. 

What she didn’t expect, though, is to find Dean talking to Liz. She has a young child with her, the boy is probably about six years old if she has to guess, but she’s never been good at guessing the age of children.

She stands there, dumbfounded, has the feeling that she’s intruding if she interrupts. Dean’s talking to Liz and then turns his attention to the little boy. He looks remarkably like Dean. And it shouldn’t affect her, because they’re nothing official — in fact, they’re probably as far away from official as it could get — but it does. There’s little pin pricks she feels in her heart. 

The boy tells Dean something and he kneels down to understand him better. They were talking and laughing. Dean’s so gentle with the boy and his smile is so wide and bright. She wonders if Dean ever thought that his life would be better if he would have stayed with Liz. He wouldn’t have to be on the run, he wouldn’t have to risk his life again. They could be a little happy family. She wonders if Dean ever wants children. And if yes, if he wants them with her. Which is a stupid thought, if she’s honest. They aren’t at the stage yet where they are in the position to discuss the future. If there’s a future at all.

Chuck never did want kids. The company was Chuck’s child. That’s why she agreed to the IUD. She thinks that the last time, she didn’t even needed to replace it because they stopped having sex way before that but she got so used to it, that’s why it’s still there at all. 

“Hey,”

Dean’s voice jerks her back to reality. 

She watches him walk over to her, a basket with groceries in his hand, and he holds it out for her to drop her package of tampons inside. She keeps her head low, doesn’t want the teen to come around snooping which prompts Dean so place his hand on the back of her neck and he lowers himself.

“Look at me,” He whispers, “You okay?”

Looking up a little, she tries to smile but fails. She can see from the corner of her eyes that Liz is staring at them with annoyance in her eyes, “I— there’s a teenager staring at me. I think she might have recognized me.”

“Okay,” Dean says, takes her hand and looks around, “Let’s go,” 

They walk past Liz who loudly calls out after Dean but he doesn't stop. He brings her to the counter, and opens his arms for her to crawl into while they wait for the cashier to scan all the things, shielding her from curious eyes. And after he pays, they walk outside and she gets on the bike while Dean secures their groceries on the motorcycle behind her. 

He comes to stand next to her after, taking the cap from her head and holds out her helmet for her to take. 

“Liz obviously wasn’t finished talking,” She says bluntly, because she sees inside the store and Liz is still looking at her like she’s something really disgusting to look at.

Dean braces his hands on his bike, caging her in and looks back over his shoulder to see where Y/N’s looking at before he turns back with a scoff. He looks back at her, the corner of his lips turning up into a grin, “You jealous?”

“Nah,” She tries to laugh it off.

He grins some more, before his face comes closer. Dean’s just an inch away, she can feel his breath on her.

“Liar,” He whispers before he kisses her. His tongue teases along her lips and of course she lets him in, welcomes the velvety smooth of his tongue, welcomes the taste of him. She can never get enough of it. He parts before it can get too heavy but she still feels something warm and wet between her thighs that she’s sure is not blood.

Dean pecks her nose and chuckles, “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m no—,”

“Of course,” 

“But is that her child?”

Dean leaves a lingering kiss on her forehead before he sighs, “Let’s get you back first, okay?”

He winks before he gets on the bike and puts his helmet on. He waits for her to put on hers and she can see that Liz is walking out, her lips pressed into a thin line and a frown etched deep on her forehead. 

  
  



	16. CH.16

As soon as they’re back, Dean places the groceries into the kitchen and Y/N was right about her period because it starts to kick in as soon as the stress level wasn’t that high anymore. 

It’s not long before she finds herself cramping up a little so she uses her first tampon and plants herself on the couch, lays her head on the pillow and pulls the blanket up to her chin. 

Dean walks in, grins a little before he scoops her up and sits her on his lap, still with the blanket and all. She curls up above him, presses her face into the crook of his neck. 

“You need anything?”

“Nuh-uh,”

“Nuh-uh?” Dean kisses her temple, and then he whispers, “Okay, I know you’ve been dying to ask. Shoot, I’ll answer all your questions.”

Y/N actually doesn’t really know what she could ask, she doesn’t want to come across as jealous, when that’s actually what she is. 

“The boy looks like you,”

“Yeah, but I can guarantee you that I’m not the father.” Dean’s voice rumbles underneath her. 

“How do you know?” 

He shrugs, his one hand rubs along her thigh over the blanket, “I came back from an eight month deployment. And after two months she told me that she’s pregnant. Turns out she was already four months along, so no, I don’t really think it was possible that I’m the father. Unless she kept one of the condoms in the freezer and kind of houdinied the semen out and injected it into her uterus.”

“You used a condom?” She raises an eyebrow, she’s curious, not because it’s supposed to be a dig at him.

“She insisted we always use one. Because she didn’t trust me and according to her, I could technically be having sex with everyone while I’m over there.”

“Wow,”

Dean lets out a soft chuckle, “Yeah,”

“She wanted you to trust her but she didn’t give you her trust in return?” She looks up at him, his scruff rubs along her forehead before he tilts his head down to look back at her. From this angle, Dean’s has a double chin but he looks cute with it and that again, is not really fucking fair.

“Apparently, trust in a relationship is not a two way street for her.” Dean just shrugs, “It’s in the past. I don’t even know if it was love at that time or just the comfort of having somewhere to stay with, and someone to be comfortable around with without having to pretend and hide. It took a big chunk of burden off my shoulders too, because I couldn’t afford rent and paying for Sam’s education at the same time.”

“You two already lived together?” 

“With her parents,” He says with a chuckle.

“Oh my god,” 

“Her parents were nosy,” Dean’s laughing now, probably thinking back to the memories, “The thing was, we were young, I was maybe too comfortable with what I had, too tired from war to make a change, and that’s why I stayed with her and then when she said that she was pregnant, I kind of rolled with it. I didn’t even think that I ever wanted kids. We never really talked about it. Looking back, I don’t think I did love her and I’m glad that I could walk away from it. I don’t think that I was ever really truly happy with her. And I have proof that she wasn’t really happy with me either. We were two cowards who were too scared of what was out there, and we were afraid to leave our comfort zones.”

“Were you ever truly happy in your life?” It’s not meant as an offense but the more he tells her, the more she gets the impression that Dean’s life was hard. Full of responsibilities and making choices that he shouldn’t make from a young age on. 

“I am,” He smiles a little when he cradles her face with one hand and pushes his thumb under her chin to make her look up at him, “You don't see it, do you?”

“See what?” She frowns a little.

“Baby, you make me happy,” He kisses her nose, “Yeah, there are some minor inconveniences along the way but the truth is, I’m the happiest I’ve been in years when I’m with you.”

“Oh,” She really didn’t know.

Dean chuckles and kisses her and she grins against the kiss. She wonders if he feels it too, feels the butterflies fluttering around in his tummy, feels the stinging in his heart that hurts so good. 

Their kiss gets more heated, gets deeper, and she really wishes that she’s not on her period. But there’s something that pulls both of them back to reality. 

“I think that is really your phone in your pockets,” She jokes, mumbles the words against his lips and Dean chuckles while he pushes her off his lap playfully to take the phone out of his pants. 

He stops and frowns when he looks at the caller ID, shows it to her before he picks it up.

Chuck.

“Mr. Winchester, where the fuck are you?” Chuck’s so loud on the other end. 

“Uh, we moved,” There’s no _sir_ at the end. She can tell that Dean’s sick of pretending.

“I know that. Where did you take my fucking wife?”

Oh, now she’s his _fucking_ wife. 

Dean places a hand on her shoulder, somehow it soothes her. It would feel a lot better if he wouldn’t be shaking himself, though. He’s visibly upset and the crease on his forehead deepens. 

“I took her somewhere safe. Because that’s my job.”

Chuck laughs, it’s loud and mockery, “That’s not your fucking job anymore, is it? I haven’t paid you to do your work for over a week! Now tell me where she is or someone gets hurt.”

They hear someone whimpering, it’s a female voice. She realizes that she knows that voice. 

Oh god, no.

“Why do you want her? It was you wasn’t it? It was you who sent that hitman after us!” Dean growls, his voice is deep, he’s angry. She’s never seen him like this. 

_He has Meg_ , She mouths to Dean and Dean’s frowns some more at that.

“I knew I shouldn’t have hired an ex-marine who left on his own will. I should have gone with an army outcast, someone who’s paid to do what they should and not fucking second guess everything I say!” Chuck snarls, “Look, Winchester, fair trade. You bring her to me and in return, I won’t kill off her best friend, how does that sound?”

“Yes,” Y/N whispers.

“No,” Dean’s voice is louder, it’s a deep growl, it makes her flinch. 

“A life for a life, sounds fair to me!” Chuck says and he must be doing something to Meg because she cries out. It’s a terrible sound. Something hurts inside of her when she hears it.

“I’ll text you the address and I give you 12 hours, because I know that you’re far away and traffic is a bitch. Don’t even tell me that I don’t give you a fair chance.” Chuck sounds proud, “No police. Just you and me, Winchester. You pull something, she’s dead and I have friends in high places, Winchester, so don’t fucking play with me or I’ll send someone else, every fucking day.”

He hangs up before Dean can even answer.

“No,” Dean says and gets up to pace around in the room. She opens her mouth to say something but he holds out his finger, repeating himself, “Don't even start, the answer is no!”

“But—”

“—I’m not fucking losing you!”

“We have to! He’ll hurt Meg!” She argues and stands up too. 

Dean’s phone pings with a message. It has the address on it and a picture of Meg. She’s been beaten black and blue. 

Y/N feels nauseous and needs to sit down again after seeing that.

Dean moves over quickly to sit down on the chair, typing in the address into google maps, “Okay, we need about six hours to get there. We still have time to form a plan.”

“You’re going to help Meg?” She walks over to stand next to him and then he looks up to her.

“Of course I’ll help Meg,” He pushes his chair back, pulls her into his lap, “I’m not happy about it but I’m helping where I can. She’s important to you and you’re important to me, so.” 

“I’m sorry I pulled you into this.”

Dean sighs, “We’ve been over this, haven’t we?” He says, places his chin on her shoulder as he wraps his arms around her waist, “We’re in this together. And now we need to see how we can all get out of it, Meg included.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


They arrive at a record shop. It doesn’t look like anything impressive on the outside to be honest, but they found out through google, that it has a recording studio in the back. Of course it would. That’s Chuck for you. He knows that it’s soundproof, he probably rented it out under a false name, either. 

Y/N gets off the bike, takes off her helmet and waits for Dean to do the same. 

He’s standing before her, “Remember what we said, okay?”

She nods.

“And here’s your gun,” Dean hands it to her too, “Just, this time, if you shoot, try to hit what you’re aiming for, alright?” He chuckles but it’s not a light hearted or funny chuckle, it’s more sinister. 

“Okay,” 

“Right,” Dean takes a step closer, weaves his arm around her waist, pulls her into him, “Try not to get shot at, alright?” 

“And you don’t get dead. Promise?” She stands on her tip toes, their noses touch. 

“Cross my heart,” Dean smiles a little, seals his words with a kiss. 

  
  
  


*

  
  


She watches Dean leave with a nod.

The plan’s for him to go in first and that they’ll improvise on the rest. 

There was no time to plan anything else ahead because they didn't know what would be waiting for them once they arrived. 

Of course they contacted Benny because Dean hasn’t heard from him yet. But since it’s now a pressing matter, Benny’s doing his best to inform the local authority, and even drives here himself. It would take him longer to get here from wherever he was, she never asked, but Dean’s phone is on standby with Benny and the call is recorded.

The plan was also for her to wait until Benny or the police is here but she can’t because she hears a dull thud and fuck—

—She runs in as fast as she can, almost trips over a stack of records but she keeps on going and pulls the heavy door open, her gun drawn. 

She sees Chuck, and Meg’s next to him on her knees.

“Oh, hey, wifey.” Chuck greets her with a fucking big smile on his face. 

The shot was only a bait to lure her in. Chuck has a gun in hand too and he waves it in her direction. 

“Let Meg go,” She says with the calmest of voice she can muster up. 

Chuck raises his eyebrow, pouts a little, “Where are your manners, Y/N! Say please,”

She looks at Dean and they exchange looks. He’s on edge, is ready to launch forward. There’s so much tension in the air and she doesn’t think that she’s breathing at all. 

With a sigh, she says, “Please,”

“Was that so hard?” Chuck mocks, “I only give Meg to Winchester and you’re coming to me.”

“No,” Dean whispers, it’s faint but she hears it nonetheless. 

Y/N knows that Dean doesn’t want that, but also she wants her friend safe. It’s the only other person in the world who she trusts next to Dean. She loves Meg. Meg was always here, even when she had a hard time herself with her failed business ventures. Y/N was always there for Meg and vise versa. 

Looking at Dean, she nods, and she sees that he doesn’t like it one bit but he nods back. 

“Lower your gun and I will, too.” She tells Chuck and that might be the first time in ages that they agree on something.

Chuck lowers his first, Dean follows and then her. 

“Now Meg,” Dean says, holds out his hands, beckons her over. 

Meg’s still blue in one eye and she walks over, she’s wearing an oversized sweater, something Y/N’s not used to seeing on her. Meg’s always dressed so good. She wonders what happened in the short time that she was away. 

Her friend nods at Y/N in passing, and goes to stand next to Dean who’s a couple of feet away from her. And Y/N turns to nod at Dean one last time, sees Dean nodding back, holding Meg up with an arm around her.

Y/N takes a step closer to Chuck, then another one. 

On her third step, a shot rings in her ear, it makes her jump. She turns around to see the source and sees Dean on the floor.

“Dean!” She calls out, wants to run back but Chuck’s voice interrupts her train of thought. 

“Ah-ah, you stay.” He says calmly and he draws his gun when she sees her drawing hers. 

She looks at Meg, sees that woman smiling. She can’t believe that she’s been played by her best friend, “Why, Meg? Why?” She starts to cry. 

Dean’s grunting, he’s clearly in pain, blood seeps out from his stomach wound. She knows that she has to stop the bleeding but she’s caught between a rock and a goddamn hard place. 

Meg’s smile dies down, “I’m sorry, I really am, Y/N.”

“Did he pressure you into doing this?”

“He offered me a million! Imagine, Y/N! A fucking million! I can start anew! I thought about it long and hard. I love you, I do, but I would also love a new start. You understand, right? I’m sorry but I gotta look out for mysel—”

Meg didn’t get to finish her sentence because Chuck shot her right in her face.

“I never liked her,” Chuck says, “She always talks too much. And she really thinks she’d get away with it.” He scoffs. 

Y/N’s full on sobbing, she can’t stop even if she wants to. “So, you’re going to kill everyone? What are you going to tell them, huh? Three dead people?” She knows that she should get going, that she should help Dean, she knows that time is fucking running out.

“I’ll tell them that I’m a hero. I tried to save you from your crazy friend who wanted to take away everything from you. Not even your bodyguard could help protect you. So it was me, the loving husband who has to rush in,” He pauses for the dramatic effect, “But it was already too late."

Dean’s still grunting, he’s still alive. Oh thank god. She risks a glance. Dean’s visibly pale, the blood starts to pool. His eyes are on her. 

She nods at Dean and takes a deep breath before looking back to Chuck who has his gun cocked and ready. It’s really now a matter of who shoots first. His finger is tight around the trigger, but hers is, too. 

“Go to hell, Chuck,” She mumbles and pulls the trigger, sees Chuck staggering and losing balance. His gun is still tight in his hand and he pulls the trigger, shooting into the ground before he kneels on one knee. She has shot him in his thigh, right above the knee.

Ready to pull again, a sound of someone barging in stops her, and then, everything happens so fast. Someone’s pointing a gun at Chuck and she sees him raising his hands. Someone has an arm around her, asking her if she’s okay. She hears it faintly, “Ma’am, are you okay? Ma’am, can you hear me?” 

But she can’t, she can’t talk, she can’t hear, she can’t see. 

She needs to get to him. 

Y/N falls on her knees, crawls over the body of Meg to get to Dean. Someone’s already working on his wound. Dean’s face is the palest of pale she’s ever seen in her life. There’s sweat on his forehead and his eyes look empty. But he’s still looking at her. She’s crying, leans her head against his, kisses his cheek, his nose, “Please don’t leave me,” She begs with every fiber of her being. 

  
  



	17. CH.17

Dean’s been put on a stretcher, he still has a pulse and they are driving him to the nearest hospital while Y/N has to stay behind. 

She knows that Dean’s in good hands, knows that he’s being taken care of but still, she wanted to go with him. Benny held her back, though.

“Hey, Y/N, watch this,” Benny winks at her as he slaps some handcuffs on Chuck's wrist and forces him to limp out of the studio on one leg.

Benny leans closer to her in passing, winks at her another time before he says, “The press has been informed and they’re waiting outside. Bet he likes that, huh?”

She follows them out, but steers clear of the press. One police officer is accompanying her to a vehicle, and has to go into the next police station to give her statement. 

They release her after a couple of hours because she said that everything’s in the cabin but only Dean knew where it was and he has all the evidence on his phone and on his laptop. They would have to wait until Dean wakes up, and she hopes he does. 

Benny had been with her the whole time, so at least she didn’t have to face the interrogation alone. It’s weird that Dean’s friends all care more about her than her own friend or husband ever did. Benny has also told her that they took Dean into surgery and he later also told her that he’s out but he’s not stable and they don’t know if he’ll survive. 

She walks out of the police station ahead of Benny, and then it suddenly hits her. It hits her that she’s all alone. She doesn’t know where to go. Doesn’t have a car, doesn’t even have money or a phone on her. Her home is some odd hundred miles away, too. She wraps her arms around herself, wondering what she should do. 

“I’ve arranged a hotel bed for you. It’s close to the hospital. And I got Cas to drive Dean’s car out here, so you can take him home when he can be released.” 

“You’re very optimistic,”

“If you’ve been through what we’ve been through, hope is all you have and nobody can take that away from you.”

Y/N cries without meaning to and Benny takes her into his arms. “Hey, he’ll wake up, alright? Dean’s a fighter. Always have been. And really, it’s not much that I can do for you, but I hope it’s enough.”

Brushing her tears away from her face, she looks up at Benny, “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Oh, I do,” Benny chuckles, “Dean saved me more times than I can count. One time he got shot because of me. So yeah, that’s the least I can do for him.”

“Thanks.” She says again, doesn’t know what else to say. 

“Don’t worry about it,” He holds out his hand, brushes a tear away with the pad of his thumb, “I can drop you off at the hospital if you want?”

“Yeah,” She smiles then, “I’d like that.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


The woman at the front desk wouldn’t let her go in to see Dean unless she can prove that she’s a family member. And she has no backup either because Benny’s needed back at the police station. He just dropped her off with the name of the hotel, and slips her two fifty dollar bills to tie her over until Cas gets here.

But then she remembers. She remembers that she still has the ID in her pocket. 

She takes it out, slams it on the table, “Here, I’m his wife. So please, can you tell me where my husband is?”

Y/N runs, runs as fast as her feet would take her, got shouted at too, because apparently you aren’t supposed to run in here. She just really doesn’t care. She finds his room, knocks at the door, but there’s no answer. Her hand twists the doorknob, opens it hesitantly. She’s nervous as hell.

The room is lit in a dim light, he’s alone because the other bed is empty. She hears machines beeping but that’s not the thing that makes her heart stop beating. It’s the sight of Dean who’s laying there, a tube in his mouth, and there’s a ventilator that pumps air into his lungs. His chest moves up and down.

Y/N takes a seat on the chair next to Dean’s bed. He looks so fragile. She absolutely hates how it physically hurts her to see him like this.

Taking his hand in hers, she squeezes it before she lays her forehead onto his arm. “I’m here,” She whispers, and she’s trying not to cry. Tries to be strong because he would want her to be strong, “Come back to me, do you hear me, Dean?” She pauses, takes her time to breathe like he taught her to, “I don’t know what to do without you, so you have to wake up, okay? Wake up and help guide me.”

She takes his hand in hers, rubs her fingers along his, feels the roughness of his palms. She kisses his knuckles, “Chuck’s in custody. Benny said he’ll most likely never get out again. I’m sorry about what happened, okay? And I know that you’ll be angry at me if I tell you that I’m sorry. I want you to come back and scold at me, okay?”

A nurse stands in the doorway, “Mrs. Winchester, I’m sorry but you have to leave. You can come again in,” The nurse pauses to look at her watch, “Four hours.”

“Sure,” She says, “I just—“

It’s like the nurse knows that Y/N needs a couple more minutes because she nods at Y/N and walks out. She’s sure that the nurse will come back soon.

“You know,” She whispers, “I know why you were looking at me the whole time. It’s me you wanted to see, right?” Her voice gets shaky again, “You wanted me to be the last thing you see.”

She sniffs, brushes at her eyes and nose, “Come back, Dean, you promised. You’re going to take me out, remember? I want that. I want all of it. I never said it, because I was confused about my feelings, but I love you, Dean. I really do. I’m the happiest when I’m with you.”

When the nurse shows up the second time, Y/N gets up and looks at him again. Dean’s not here, he’s still far away. She places a kiss onto his forehead before she slips out of the room. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Y/N takes a taxi to the nearest store that’s still open to buy essentials. She needs tampons, toothbrush and toothpaste, and water. Maybe a chocolate bar. And it should be dark because it should calm her down.

The taxi driver saw the state she’s in, and decided to stay and wait for her to take her to the hotel safely.

When she steps into her hotel room, she finds a couple of gray and black shirts, POLICE DEPARTMENT written over it. And there’s a note. 

_ Thought you might need a change of clothes. Sorry they didn’t have pants in your size. - Benny _

After she takes a shower, she gets into bed but sleep is a thing that never came.

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Y/N told the hotel to wake her up on time to be at Dean’s side as soon as she can. She didn’t really have to because she’s been awake all night, zapping through TV channels. Chuck is the breaking news on every one of them.

When she arrives at hospital, she sees Cas waiting in the reception area and runs to greet him.

He takes her into his arms, rubs a hand over her back, “I’m sorry,” Cas says and he sits down, pulling her down with him, “Is there anything you need?”

“The police need Dean’s laptop, and I’ll probably need new clothes soon,” She says with a chuckle. 

“Bobby went to the cabin last night. He’ll bring it here,” Cas says and then he smiles, “And we’ll go shopping as soon as Dean wakes up.”

Cas is so optimistic, too. It blows her mind. It’s as if they don’t accept anything else than Dean waking up and coming around again.

“Yeah,” She smirks, “Have you been to see him?” 

“No, only family allowed and they said that he’s having a check up. Apparently he started to breath on his own about five minutes before I arrived here. Everyone was in a rush. I don’t know what’s going on now.” 

“I’ll go ask,” She says, and walks over to the desk. 

After a while she sits back next to Cas and starts to cry.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” Cas asks, pulls her into an embrace.

She cries but she’s smiling at him, “They said he’s awake.”

“Oh, thank god,” Cas places a hand on her shoulder, “See? Everything’s going to be okay,”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


It’s another agonizing thirty minutes until the nurse who’s working the front desk walks towards them.

“Mrs. Winchester?”

Y/N looks up from a magazine she tried to read but didn’t get anything into her head anyway, “Yes?”

Cas’ eyes widen but she ignores him, ignores the grin on his face.

“You can go see him now,”

“Thanks,” She says and puts the magazine away. She takes a look at Cas.

“It’s okay, you’re his wife, you go first,” He winks, too. 

She nods at Cas, and makes her way to Dean’s room. While she walks along the corridor, her heart thumps ridiculously fast in her chest. 

The door stands ajar so she gets in. 

Dean turns his head towards her, when he hears her. He flinches a little before his face turns bright. The crinkles start to crease around his eyes.

Y/N sits down, and bites back her tears. Fails, because one tear makes an escape and rolls down her cheek.

“Hey,” Dean chokes out. His voice is hoarse and she can tell that it hurts to speak from the way he flinches, “You okay?”

At that, she cries some more. How can he be the one that almost died and still asks her if she’s okay?

She nods. Because she is. She is, because he came back.

He brings his hand to her face, brushes at her tears, “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Y/N has to chuckle at that, “I’m a mess.”

“You’re a hot mess,” He says and has to cough because he wanted to laugh.

“You’re here,” She stands up, and leans over a little, trails her fingers over his face, and feels the prickly stubble, “I thought I lost you.”

She kisses him then, first his cheek, his nose and his forehead. Dean leans towards her kisses, he grins at her affection, clears his throat and pushes the words off his tongue, “I would never leave you like that.”

“I’m sorry,” She says as she sits back down, “I didn’t know that Meg would betray me like that.”

Dean listens, he doesn’t say anything because it hurts, she knows. It’s enough that he listens. She needs to get it off her chest. 

“I’m sorry that you got shot. If it helps, I shot Chuck.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Right over his kneecap. Because I wanted him to live and rot in jail.”

He grins and then he speaks, even though it hurts him, “That’s my girl. And where did you aim?”

“His kneecap?” She shrugs.

Dean raises his eyebrows again, frowns a little, too.

She sighs and rolls her eyes, “Yeah, alright, I aimed at his crotch.”

He tries his best not to laugh, the vein on his forehead showing.

“What happened?” He asks after a long while and he holds her hand, squeezes it.

“Chuck promised Meg a million dollar. And she betrayed me by shooting you. Chuck shot her right in her face. He wanted to blame it on Meg. That she tried to kill me and to reach me she had to kill you too. Chuck wanted to play the hero, coming to our rescue but it would have been too late. Benny and the police showed up right after I shot Chuck. I was about to shoot again.” 

“Benny looked after you?”

She nods, “He did.”

“Good. Cas?” Dean tries to keep his sentences short.

“Cas drove here with your car.”

“Oh no,”

“He’ll take back your motorcycle.”

“Oh no,”

She chuckles.

“Right, Cas’ right outside but you need to rest. We’ll go clothes shopping and we’ll be back.” She stands up and kisses his forehead.

When she’s about to turn to go, Dean pulls her back by her arm so hard he makes her stumble and fall back, landing half on top of him. He flinches but composes himself. For someone who almost died, he still has so much strength.

Dean doesn’t say anything, he just looks at her and then he kisses her bruisingly hard. When they part he looks at her again, “I saw you. I only saw you.” He says and she knows what he means. She nods with tears in her eyes, sees him smiling, “I love you, you know?” 

She nods again, smiles, too, “I know. I love you too.” He kisses her again and then she gets off him. Dean’s eyes are wary, he’s visibly tired. 

“Sleep, I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t flirt with Cas.” 

She snorts at that, “I won’t.”

“You’ll be back when I wake up?” His lids are heavy, they’re almost closing.

“I’ll be right here. You won’t get rid of me so easily.” She smiles from the door.

“Promise?” His words are slurring.

“Cross my heart,” She says before she slips out of the room.

  
  



	18. CH.18

Y/N has offered to pay and cover for Cas’ expenses if he wants to stay here while Dean’s still in the hospital — she got her bag with her things back too, because Bobby came in to see Dean before he left, and left her bag with Dean. She’s a little sad she missed Bobby, hadn’t really got to officially meet that man that Dean’s so fond of. He came in when Cas and her were out to find her some pants. Cas politely declined, though, because he needs to get back for his new job as a car salesman. 

She can imagine him selling a lot of cars to single women, to be honest. He has that charming smile and eyes that are blue as a clear sky on a sunny day.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


The next day, when she goes in to see Dean, he’s already sitting up and talking on the phone. She slips into the room and sits on the empty chair beside him. 

He’s doing incredibly good for someone who almost died. It’s only the wound on his stomach that’s still hurting and he’s on painkillers. The doctor’s are happy with the progress he makes, and said that it’s rare that they see someone with his wounds recover that well. Guess Dean’s a super human, at least that’s what he is to her. 

Dean’s frowning while he talks but he smiles at her with his eyes, she can see it clearly. She likes that, likes the way he smiles and she’s able to see the smile reaching his eyes. It’s so rare to see that in a person. 

Y/N takes out her new phone which she bought this morning and begins to set it up while she waits for Dean to finish his call. She can hear that he’s talking to Benny.

She knows what Benny's telling him because she went in to see Benny this morning, as he’s still in town to wrap the case up. 

Apparently, Chuck’s company isn’t doing well (surprise!), and he’s close to losing it. And instead of selling or getting investors on board, he decides that it would be easier to kill off his own wife. She’s glad that her soon to be ex-husband is facing life in jail, to be honest. Because that’s what Benny has told her. They’ve got a strong case and the chances of Chuck ever getting out of jail alive, are slim to non-existent. That’s good. Really good. It’s just, she doesn’t look forward to going up into the witness stand. Especially when they could bring up her relationship with Dean, which could lead to other suspicions and would raise more questions, but knowing Dean, he’s going to be great in the courtroom. It’s her that’s going to need some coaching.

“Yeah,” Dean says, “Thanks for everything man. I owe you. Of course. Yeah, we should. Okay, bye.”

He hangs up and rubs at his ears. He’s probably been on the phone for a while, “Benny says hi.”

“I like Benny,” She says, looking up from her phone to grin at him.

“Yeah?”

“He ties with Cas on the list of my favorite people.” She shrugs.

Dean raises his eyebrows, “Who tops the list?” 

“Um,” She says, pretending to think, “There’s this guy.”

“Yeah?” He pats at the space next to him on the bed and she gets up and sits closer to him. He rubs over her thighs. Up and down.

“Yeah,” She smiles, “He’s quite alright. He took care of me so that brings him to the top of my list.”

Dean chuckles, pulls her closer by the neckline of her shirt to kiss her. 

He breaks from it and grins, before his face gets serious, “Jesus, I love you so much, you know that? It terrifies me. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

He’s so blunt about it, it blows her mind. Her cheeks start to flare up. 

“Me neither.” She says, because it’s true. What she thought was love? What she had at the beginning with Chuck? It was never like this. She leans forward, kisses him, smells him, tastes him, and smiles against his lips, “So, will you do the honor of being the first number I’ll save into my new phone?” She grins, holds the phone out for him to punch in his digits. 

Dean chuckles, takes the phone and thumbs over it, writes his name. When he’s done, he hands it to her and she looks at the contact.

“ _D_ ?” She looks at him, “ _D_. This is all you wanna be known as?” 

He shrugs, “Yeah, I don’t like people knowing everything about me.”

“But _D_ , ugh.”

“Hey, I could have written _The best D you ever had_ but that would have been inappropriate.” There’s a cocky grin on his face.

She sighs, “Fine, but ugh, I wanna put a heart next to it at least. So I won’t mix you up with all the other _D_ ’s that I’ll be having on my phone.”

“Hey!” Dean has to laugh, and is now holding his stomach and then he tries to think of something _not_ funny, she can tell, because his lips are pressed into a thin line and after a couple of breaths, he manages to calm down. After a couple more minutes of even breathing, he reaches over to get his phone, and hands it to her, “I need your number too.”

“Why? Will you send me a dick pic?” 

Dean snorts at that and she can’t help but giggle. He’s holding his stomach again, and maybe she should really not be a pain in his ass. She just can’t help it and seize the opportunity when it’s there.

He raises one eyebrow then, “Would you like me to send you a dick pic?”

She should have known that karma will get her, because now, the one who’s blushing is her. With a shrug, she says, “It depends who’s dick it is,” 

“What do you mean, _who’s dick it is_? I don’t have pictures of other dicks. At least I don’t think I do,” He grins, pretending to think and she rolls her eyes.

Grabbing his phone out of his hands while he’s still lost in thought, she gets off the bed and begins to type in her number, had to search for it on the receipt she got, because she can’t really remember it by heart. But when she finishes, she sits back on the empty space she just left and hands the phone back to Dean, a grin so wide, like she’s really proud of it.

Y/N watches as Dean looks at his phone. His eyebrows meet in the middle and there’s a slight lift of one of them. 

“ _BAE LOML_? So many hearts?” Dean looks from the phone to her and she really, really tries not to laugh. “What does that even mean?”

“You could google it?”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Dean places his phone back on the charger and turns his attention back to her, “I’ve talked to Sammy this morning.” 

Ah, he’s changing the subject because he’s embarrassed that he probably quite likes the name she just gave herself. At least it doesn’t seem like he would want to change it.

“Yeah?”

“He’s going to handle your divorce. If you still want to divorce that son of a bitch, that is,” Dean pauses, pulls her into him, so that she’s half on the bed and half on top of him on the side that he’s not hurt, “Which, I would hope that you will, because he’s kind of a dick.”

She has to chuckle.

“Sam’s going to prepare all the paperwork so the only thing you have to do is signing it.” Dean kisses her forehead.

“I will,” She nods her head. She wants to do it. Wants to move forward.

He looks at her, his hand tucks away a loose strand of her hair, “Do you want to go back to your house after all this? Live in the city?”

It’s the first time that he mentions the life after this nightmare. Honestly, she never thought about it. She doesn’t know what to do with her life at all.

“No, I don’t want to go live in that house anymore.” She says. She couldn’t possibly go back. There are too many memories. It’s too big, it’s too fancy. It’s too _Chuck_. Plus, she doesn’t have anything in the city anymore that could hold her there. No friends, no family, no Chuck. 

Dean’s smirking, it’s probably the answer he was anticipating to hear, “Can you imagine coming back with me?”

“Well,” She says and Dean’s smile turns into a straight line. She really doesn’t want to play with him when he’s still recovering, but it’s so easy to rile him up, “I don’t know,” She sighs, for the dramatic, “You’d have to buy me a drink first, I’m not that easy, Dean.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack,” He mumbles, curses some more but then he grins, kisses her lips bruisingly hard.

“Ugh, Liz won’t like me living there, though.” 

“Liz doesn’t really like anyone, and besides, that’s her problem and not yours.” Dean scoffs.

“She likes you.” 

“Baby,” Dean holds her face between his palms, squishing at her cheeks so she has a fish mouth and then he grins, “What do I have to do to make you see that you’re it? Huh?” He pecks her fish lips and then he lets go of her face, strokes her cheeks instead, and he gets serious again, “All I saw was you. I think I even dreamt of you when I was out and unconscious. And even in my dreams I made sure that you were okay. When I was there on the floor? I was angry at myself, you know? I was thinking that I was fucking stupid to have thought that Chuck wouldn’t have a back up plan. And when I heard the shot, I hoped and prayed that he didn’t shoot you.”

She says, leans in, nuzzles her nose against his stubbled jaw, “Okay, I move in with you.” Moving up on the bed a little, she lays on his shoulder, buries her face into the crook of Dean’s neck. 

“We could get a house. I mean, it won’t be as big as the one you’re used to living in but we can get a reasonably sized house in a reasonably good neighborhood.” 

She has to chuckle at that, “Sounds reasonably good. I don’t need big things.”

“That’s because I’m already quite big.” 

“Oh my god.”

“It’s Dean.”

Y/N punches his chest and he has to laugh and flinches at that. Good. He deserved it.

“Don’t you think it’s too soon, though? I mean, we don’t know each other for very long,” The question is not really weird? Is it? It’s true, they know each other for what? Two weeks tops? She doesn’t really know anymore but it feels like a lifetime. Although it’s only a question to rile him up a little more.

“I think I know you better than I know anyone else.” Dean says, and adds, “But I’m not pressuring you. I just wanna add that I’m here no matter what and you should know that by now.” 

She smiles, it’s so easy with him really, “If you know me, you should know that I’m ready to follow you anywhere by now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dean places a soft kiss on her lips, “You let me keep you?”

She nods with a smile, “Promise me that you will,”

“Cross my heart,” Dean huffs out a breath, kisses her again, it’s soft and tender, pours all his love into it and she feels it. Feels it too. Feels the butterflies, feels the little bubbles getting bigger in her heart. And she thinks that Dean’s right. Sometimes things do happen for a reason. She looks forward to a new future, it might not be gold and glitter, but that’s not what she wants anyway. She wants someone who sees her as his equal, she wants someone who treats her right, who makes her want to be the best version of herself. She wants someone who can make her laugh, she wants someone who has her back, no matter what. She wants Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. I'm always sad when a story ends. Thank you for staying with me. I'm sorry it got so long again but apparently I'm can't write short stories anymore.
> 
> <3


End file.
